Self Destruction
by SpiderElectricGirl
Summary: Set in the future. While Virgil is busy training his son in Hero 101 and Adam deals with a mix of family, career, and duty, Richie is up against the hardest force of all, life. WARNING: Contains controversial components and some troubling subject matter.
1. Part 1: Broken Pieces

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters found in the animated series Static Shock. They are the property of DC Comics and no infrigement is intended in the making of this fiction.

A/N: This takes place in the future after Static Shock's last season. It's set twenty years after Static but twenty years before the events of Batman Beyond.

Self-Destruction Part 1: Broken Pieces

When the long awaited 2:30 bell rang, the doors of North Stone High sprung open with a variety of teenagers. Jeannie Hawkins made her way through the swarm of other students and stopped off at the blue mailbox that stood right out in front of the school. She turned her head around a little but after not seeing anyone in particular, the short brunette decided to head for the student parking lot.

Raheem leaned against the door of the black four-door Sedan. His last period of the day was Phys. Ed and Coach Gleeson always dismissed class ten minutes early so the students would have time to change and get out by the final dismissal bell. That usually left Raheem open for getting out of school minutes before his riding buddies, which also left him, like that day, impatiently waiting by the car for said buddies. He turned around to lean against the hood of the Sedan in time to spot his younger sister coming his way.

Seeing Jeannie alone, Raheem asked, "Where's the Bubble Blonde?"

The girl responded with, "You mean she wasn't in your music class, either?"

Raheem gave a shake of his head. "Did she at least go to your homeroom?"

"Yes, but after lunch it's like she vanished."

With a shrug, Raheem suggested, "She must've bailed," then got into the car. "Come on."

Jeannie let out a soft sigh as she joined him in the front of their father's car. It felt a bit strange to her to be riding in the passenger's seat. Their routine consisted of she and Beth in the back with Raheem blasting music from up front trying to drown out their, in his opinion, "hyperactive chipmunk conversations". It had been that way going and coming ever since school had started up two weeks earlier. Now, for no reason and without letting Jeannie of all people know, Beth was a no show.

Once their seatbelts were secure, Raheem started out of the parking lot. He soon noticed his younger sister's cheerless expression and said, "Some guy probably just dared her to ditch class with him. You know how Beth is."

"Hm." Jeannie glanced out the window for a moment then looked at him. "Do you think we should maybe call Richie?"

"No," Raheem answered right away, shooting her a look that matched the sharpness of his reply. "First, he's probably still at work. Second, this isn't even that big a deal." With a slight lump in his throat at having to bring the next bit up, Raheem reminded her, "Besides, he's had enough to deal with and Beth's just goofing around."

"Right," Jeannie agreed, knowing he had a point. "Okay." As she relaxed a little, she felt a vibration go off on her belt. She pulled out her cell phone, which she'd had to place on silent while in school, from its holder. After she saw the Caller ID, Jeannie answered into the phone, "Where are you?"

"Relax, J. I just cut out early," came Beth's reply. "Before sixth period."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"What? Would you have come along?"

Instead of answering that, Jeannie decided to repeat her greeting question, "Where are you?"

"I was at the mall, but I swear there is nothing worth seeing at the movies so I checked out some shoes and now I'm just walking around."

"I still don't get why you would just ditch school, though," Jeannie reasoned.

Beth, as per the usual, decided to change the subject. "Hey, you know a lot of people from school hang out at Pizza Metro. You want to head there tonight?"

"Tonight?" Jeannie repeated. "We can't go anywhere tonight. We're all having dinner. Don't you remember?"  
"Don't count on the all," Beth replied. "D-A-D has to work so I'm thinking the whole get-together thing is at the bottom of his priorities list. Figured you and me could cut out instead."

"Why don't you just come over? Don't even worry about Richie. Everybody else is going to be there."

"Trust me," Beth said with assurance. "I never worry about him." A pause came before she spoke again. "Just try to get out later, Cutie. Bye."

Before Jeannie could return the usual, "Later, Beauty," she heard her phone click as Beth hung up.

"And what's she up to?" Raheem asked, having caught part of the conversation.

Jeannie told him, "Apparently just walking around."

*******

People seemed to immediately stop everything from walking, talking, jogging, biking, skateboarding, shopping, and all else to look up into the sky as the glowing electrified saucer flew over their heads. Static could hear the cheering and shouts up to him even from his distance over the building tops. He had grown used to the public praise over the years. Compliments of the chemical explosion the media called "the Big Bang". back during his freshman year of high school, Virgin Hawkins had been Dakota City's first official superhero ever since.

Currently only hero, Static thought.

At least it seemed that way for a long time now. Static did not mean his brother-in-law Adam Evans also known as Rubberband Man or just RB among many. No, Static knew how much Adam had going on in his life between his career, trying to launch his own clients, and of course, Sharon and their two kids. However, even with all that on his plate, Adam still managed to make appearances as RB whenever Static really needed him.

The true reason Static felt alone in the superhero business, much like he experienced in his teen years, fell right on the shoulders of his partner Richie Foley or his powered up alias, Gear. However, due to his consistency of being out of sight of late, Static considered more than once about revoking both Gear's partner affiliation with him and years long best friend status as well.

Static knew he did not really mean such thoughts, but he did play around with them in his head. The truth was that Richie concerned him. The man had been through a great deal in the past year, but considering the fact that he was not even trying to talk about things, Static could only pray for the best with the whole thing.

Keep the faith, the philosophy that had gotten him through every other curveball in life.

All that in mind, the high voltage hero took off like the lightning he produced at the familiar sound of an alarm. He followed the screech until he saw a man racing out of a bank with a gun in one hand and a bag in the other. Naturally assuming the bag did not hold the guy's dirty laundry, Static lowered down and blocked the thief's path.

The man gasped. "Static!"

Static informed him, "You just traded in hard times for jail time." Before the robber could even raise his gun, Static took possession of it, levitating the weapon over both their heads before making it explode with a burst of electricity. "And that's really gonna cost you." The superhero's eyes seemed to radiate as he said fiercely, "I hate guns." He gave the man's chest a hard zap, giving him an instant static cling into a brick wall. "Worse, I hate the hoods who turn them on innocent people." When a police car rolled up, Static said, "I'll let them deal with you from here… this time." With that, the flying hero whipped his foldable saucer back out and floated back up into the sky to continue his early evening patrol, as he was not trying to miss dinner that night.

*******

"Raheem," Daisy called from where she stood in the kitchen over the stove, "come grab the plates to set the table."

"Hang on, Ma," Raheem yelled back. He currently sat on the couch in the living room with his younger cousins Tristy and her older brother Bobby.

The three of them had become lost in a movie on TNT. Even with the extreme amount of complexity and action going on in it, Tristy also had her eyes glued tightly to the screen.

"Now, please," was Daisy's response to her oldest child. She held her hand out for Sharon to give her the green and red bell peppers out of the refrigerator. At not hearing a word from the recently turned sixteen-year-old boy, Daisy petitioned him again. "Raheem!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Raheem finally said, moving Tristy off his lap and onto a sitting position on the couch. As he stood and headed into the kitchen, the boy muttered with annoyance, "Dang." As soon as the word left his lips, Raheem felt the backhand of his grandfather connect with his jean clad thigh. "Ow, Pops!"

"Watch your mouth," Robert told him simply. He and Adam had a game of Gold Fish going on at the table.

"It was just dang," Raheem reasoned. "It wasn't like I used, you know, the other D one."

"Close enough," Robert said without looking up from the five cards he had in front of his face then provided an answer for Adam's request for a King. "Go fish."

Raheem resisted the urge to roll his eyes. But that was Pops, always unchanged.

When he made his way over to the cabinet over the microwave stand, Raheem heard Daisy say, "Get out the crystal for tonight, baby."

"Okay, Ma."

"The crystal?" Sharon repeated. "Dais, do not go through the trouble for just us. We can eat off plastic."

"Hey, you guys already know I usually eat off my hands on the road," Adam chimed in, trying to decide which card to request next.

"And that's the point," Daisy said in Adam's direction before turning back to Sharon. "This is the first time the family's been able to really sit down together since July with Adam being in and out of town and all."

"True," Sharon had to agree as she continued tossing her salad. If Virgil had been there in that moment, Sharon could just hear his comments about how lettuce and tomato were the only things her kitchen disaster hands could not burn.

"I'm home," Virgil announced himself that next moment.

"Speak of the devil," Sharon said to herself with a bit of a smirk.

"Whoa!" Virgil cried out as he stumbled over something in his walkway. "Ouch!" He gave a rub to the knee he had hit. The man had changed from Static to Virgil in an alley on the way home. At that moment, though, he wished he would have just done his usual and come in through his bedroom window. Unfortunately, with the weather still being so nice out and people barbequing, the neighbors may have found Static flying into a random window a little suspicious.

"Sorry, Uncle Virg," Bobby apologized as he and Tristy went to pick up the shoes they had left right by the front door.

Virgil stood, giving Tristy a little tickle, producing a giggle. He ran a hand over Bobby's head and said, "I swear, two hours of flying around this city dealing with the most bogus people possible and you two come the closest to taking me out." After he successfully had both kids laughing, Virgil headed for his usual post-patrol spot, the kitchen. "Dang, I'm hungry."

"You, too, huh?" Robert said, but Virgil was quick enough to dodge his father's hand.

"Pops," Virgil greeted with an innocent grin then spotted his sister watching them with a great deal of amusement. "Here early, huh?"

"Mmhmm," Robert hummed disapprovingly. "Now I see where your son gets it."

"Yeah, me too," Virgil said, being the first one to notice what Raheem was currently doing.

"Hey, Dad," the teen acknowledged as he used his own electric powers to balance that evening's choice of dishes.

"Raheem Richard!" Daisy exclaimed after she looked up from checking on the roast. "What do you think you're doing?"

At the startle, Raheem lost his balance on his powers and started to drop the delicate plates. "Oops," he said meekly but was relieved when Virgil used a little of his own electric telekinesis to gently sit the plates and glasses on top of one of the counters.

Daisy breathed a relieved sigh. "Raheem, how many times do I have to tell you to be careful with those sparks of yours around my heirlooms? You know your grandmother gave this dish set to me."

"Sorry, Mama," Raheem apologized, obviously trying to keep from bursting with laughter at the whole thing.

In an attempt to ease the situation, Virgil said to Daisy, "It's a good thing he's practicing, though." He went over and gave her a peck on the lips. "I'm going to need him out there."

"Oh?" Raheem piped up at the news.

"You know it," Virgil confirmed. "Compliments of no-show Gear. Just wait until Richie gets over here. I have some words for him."

"You're going to have to save them for his voicemail," Daisy informed him. "The Foleys indirectly declined tonight."

"Again?" Virgil let out a frustrated sigh.

Adam watched as Raheem silently left out of the kitchen with the stack of plates.

"Let's take five, Rob," Adam said to his father-in-law.

Once they both laid down their cards, Adam took hold of the silverware in one of his stretchable hands and used the other to carry the glasses out to the dining room.

Adam saw his children sitting on the living room couch and said to them as he passed by, "You two get out that TV and go wash up for dinner."

Satisfied with hearing, "Yes, Dad," from both of them, Adam followed his nephew on.

Raheem had started setting the third place at the dining room table, his head low. The only reason Adam could even see his face was because Raheem had his long dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. The teen choosing to keep his hair such a length made Adam thankful that Bobby got a haircut every few weeks or so like himself. Having to stop to manage and braid a boy's hair would be a new item of Adam's already long list that he did not need.

"Thanks, Unc," Raheem said when he noticed the older male assisting him.

Adam waved his hand in a, "Don't worry about it," gesture before he asked, "So how's school these days? We haven't had a chance to really talk since I got back."

"It's cool," Raheem answered. "I only have three honors classes this year."

"Only?" Adam repeated.

Raheem smiled. "Yeah, I know."

Adam took a seat at the mostly set table. "How're your powers developing? You seem to have a better control now."

Putting his index finger and thumb close together, Raheem produced a tiny spark between the two. "I guess," he said. "Did Dad tell you I still can't get off the ground?"

"Your dad pretty much mastered the flying thing," Adam admitted. "You'll get there. If you keep your head in it."

Raheem put down the last place setting before he spoke again. "What if my head really isn't in it?"

Before Adam could say anything, their line of family members began to enter the dining room. Adam stretched both hands out a few feet and took the large serving bowl Sharon held then offered his wife a wink.

Jeannie was the last one to enter and went straight over to her parents.

"Okay, so I know this is kind of last minute, but I was thinking I'd go hang out at this pizza place near school," she explained.

The first thing Virgil wanted to know was, "With who?"

"Just Beth," Jeannie answered. "I figured it'd be okay since she and Richie aren't going to be here, anyway."

Daisy reminded her, "Jeannie, your uncle just got back into town."

"But Uncle Adam doesn't care." Jeannie looked to the tall man for confirmation. "Right, Uncle Adam?"

"For my free baby-sitter?" Adam responded. "Anything."

"See?" Jeannie said to her mother.

Daisy still answered negatively. "It's a school night. Neither one of you have any business going out."

"So we'll be back early," Jeannie insisted then looked for some backup support. "Daddy?"

Virgil shook his head. "It's family night, Jeannie. And does Richie even know Beth is going out?"

"Probably not," Raheem felt the need to chime in.

Jeannie folded her arms with annoyance and said, "Oh, just because he doesn't have her every move low jacked?"

Robert placed both hands on his granddaughter's shoulders from behind. "That'll be enough of that, Jean. Don't fuss with your parents."

"Sorry, Pops," the teenager apologized softly.

Daisy sighed and said, "Let's sit."

Robert took the head of the table, as usual, while Virgil, Daisy, Tristy, and Jeannie sat to his right and Sharon, Adam, Bobby, and Raheem on his left. Jeannie clearly wanted a bit of distance from her parents and looked glad to have Tristy sandwiched between her and them. Then there was Bobby who always liked sitting close to his father.

"Now I want to hear about school," the grandfather at the table said.

Tristy was the first to speak. "Ooh, Pops, I'm taking art with the older kids."

"That's right," Robert recalled. "Your mother told me. I'm so proud of you, honey."

"I can't wait for the talent show," Bobby said. "We had our last rehearsal at the rec center."

"That reminds me," Adam spoke out loud. "I need to reschedule my flight for this weekend."

Bobby frowned slightly, knowing the next day was Friday. "Dad, you're still coming to the talent show tomorrow, right?"

"Now you already know I'm not about to miss that," Adam assured the twelve-year-old. "And I don't leave until Saturday."

"The kids have been working pretty hard on this one," Robert said. "It's going to be a good show this year."

"I just can't believe I'm writing a paper on behavioral studies," Raheem said. "I have to use terms that I'm sure we haven't even learned yet."

"I can help you with that," Sharon offered. "I wrote the same thing when I took Honors English."

"I figured," Raheem said. "Thanks, T Sharon. I'm just glad I thought twice about taking Honors World Studies, too. It would have been too much to take on with patrolling at night and everything."

"That's the part I don't like," Robert said. "The part where you let this hero thing get in the way of your studies."

"Pops, it's not getting in the way," Raheem responded automatically, knowing how his grandfather could get.

"You need a little more than those sparkles coming out your fingers to take steps in this world," Robert continued on.

"I know," Raheem started to explain himself again. "That's why-"

"And speaking of honor classes," Robert cut in, turning his attention on Jeannie. "I'm surprised you're not looking into this, Jean."

"Well, my counselor said something to me about it, but me and Beth are really looking to try out for the dance team next month."

"Now you know you're too bright a girl to let one activity take over your life," Robert told her.

Raheem felt his ears actually twitch. Was that supposed to be a shot at him?

"Pops is right," Virgil agreed. "Jeannie, why don't you look into some different classes at school?"  
"Would Advanced Computing make everyone at this table happy?" Jeannie asked.

"Computers." Robert sounded pleased. "Now that's something I know I could see you doing."

"Did I mention I'm taking three honors classes?" Raheem muttered to himself as he picked at dinner. "Or, you know, learning to fly?"

*******

The left French door of the Foley household opened at eleven that night. Beth shut it and twisted the top lock before making her way through the foyer and into the enormous living room. The first thing she noticed was the bar. Her father's brand new bottle of scotch had less than a fourth of a drink left. The same thing could be said about the cans of Corona in the refrigerator that morning. She took off her studded jean jacket and Tinkerbell messenger bag. Placing the items onto the white sectional sofa, the tall thin blonde noticed the red blinking answering machine on the coffee table. Seventeen new messages.

Down from yesterday, the teen thought.

She sat on the couch, deciding her father had either not been home to check the machine or had ignored it altogether. With one Richard Foley either was possible. Beth decided to go through the messages herself.

"Yes, Mr. Foley, I thought you'd be interested to know that Bethany has been a missing face in Environment Science this past week, but I know she's been going to homeroom. If there is some sort of problem going on, please call North Stone and ask for me, Rita Taylor."

The second message Beth recognized as her deep voiced music teacher. "Yeah, this is Mitch Odom calling from North Stone. I saw Beth a couple times today, but one place I didn't see her was in my class. I don't have a high tolerance where cutting classes is involved and I thought I'd let you in on the situation."

On the second message Beth heard something that surprised her, "Mr. and Mrs. Foley, this is Bethany's guidance counselor, Cynthia Walters. I've been hearing from a number of her teachers this past week and-"

Beth cut it off there. She had heard enough.

Just then, she heard something else. One of the front doors opening. Richie came in, dropping the mail he had gathered onto an end table.

He acknowledged his daughter with, "Oh, it's you."

"Sorry to disappoint you," Beth said as dryly as she could. "Oh, but bright side, not the first time."

"Don't be cute," Richie said dismissively as he undid his chokehold of a tie. "You been down here all night?"

With a shrug, Beth lied, "Yeah, I've been home for hours."

"I don't suppose you put away any leftovers from whatever takeout you decided to order."

"I didn't order takeout and besides, how am I supposed to know when you're coming in, anyway?"

"That's because I work for hours on end," Richie returned sharply. "And since I do, it wouldn't kill you to help out and maybe do more in the kitchen than lean against the counter."

"Well, here's a thought," Beth said, getting up from where she sat on the couch. "Why don't you just hire a new housekeeper?"

"You're almost fifteen, Bethany," Richie returned. "We don't need a housekeeper around here anymore doing the work you can easily help out with."

Beth did not say anything as she walked off, but did mutter, "Here's another thought. Try hiring a new wife."

"What was that?" Richie called after her.

"Nothing," she said loudly without bothering to turn around as she jogged up the spiral staircase.

Richie gave off a shrug before he tossed his tie down on top of the girl's school bag. He noticed fifteen new messages on the answering machine, but instead of reaching for the play button, he decided on erase. With that done, he promptly went to his bar to enjoy the last of his scotch.

*******

Adam carried a pair of bottled waters into the master bedroom and handed one to Sharon. He joined her in the king sized bed and pulled the covers over both of their middle areas.

"To Sharon Evans," Adam toasted, holding his bottle up. "My reason for it all."

She gave him a grin and said, "You always did make corny stuff sound just so right."

Adam chuckled and took a bite of the strawberry cheesecake that sat on the plate between the two of them. "Mmm," he moaned happily. "You know, I could have dinner with this family every night if it meant saving dessert for you."

Sharon felt herself melt upon hearing that. "Oh, Adam," she cooed. They shared a pair of loving pecks and Adam hugged her closer to him.

"I just wish it could last longer than a minute," he said admittedly.

"Don't start that now," Sharon said, putting a fingertip over his lips. "You will be back on Tuesday."

"Then I'm home for at least a month," Adam tacked on. "I just need to be in LA to review this fresh meat they're trying to throw at me."

"Every talent on every coast wants a piece of my man," Sharon observed.

"Hey, every piece of your man is reserved for you," Adam assured her. "Believe that."

The negligee adorned woman demonstrated that belief by pulling him into a strong kiss. As Adam reached out over her to take things a step or two further, he felt his elbow make contact with something soft and squishy. He moved his arm back and realized that he had touched down upon the cheesecake. Adam looked back at Sharon, who immediately burst into laughter.

Adam smiled widely and sat up, but Sharon pulled him back.

"I'll clean you off," she offered then promptly started licking the strawberry and cream off his lower arm.

As their intimate moment restarted, it was quickly interrupted again. This time by a light melody.

The couple shared a humored yet exasperated expression, but Adam said, "I got it." He pushed himself up and off the bed, only taking time to grab his robe before heading next door to his son's room.

Bobby sat on the bed of his red and lightning silver themed room, playing a few strings on his classic guitar. He was so involved in the sound he attempted to produce that he did not even notice his father's presence until he felt a tap on his left shoulder.

"Ah!" Bobby jumped when he saw that the hand did not have an owner. He did turn his head in time to see his father retract the hand. "Dad, you know it freaks me out when you do that."

"And you know you need to be in the bed right now," Adam said, coming into the room fully. "It's a school day tomorrow, son."

"I know, I know," Bobby said, putting his guitar to the side. "But tomorrow's the talent show, too, and I can't stop thinking about that, either."

"Maybe I can help you with the song in the morning," Adam offered.

"No," Bobby declined quickly. "I don't want you to hear it until the show."

Adam held his hands up and said, "Okay, okay, my ears are closed. But for right now, it's time for you to go to sleep."

"Yeah, okay." Bobby got right back under his blanket but allowed his dad to pull it over him. "Hey, Dad?"

"Hm?"

"What time do you go to bed on the road?"

"At Daddy Time," Adam answered him then tweaked the child's nose. "You go to bed on Baby Boy Time. Like right now."

Taking the very clear hint, Bobby settled and closed his eyes. "Night, Dad."

"Night, son. I'll see you in the morning." That was one line Adam loved saying to his children, as he did not have the privilege of repeating it every night.

After turning off Bobby's nightstand lamp, the man stood and left the room. He started to close the door, but left it partially open just in case his son got anymore ideas about late night practicing.

Before he returned to his own room, Adam went across the hall to check in on Tristy. He could make out her form on the upper level of her bunk bed, thanks to the warm glow radiating from her nightlight. Seeing the little girl moving around anxiously in her sleep, Adam came in closer. He found the thing to sooth her in the form of her pink and white striped tiger and tucked the stuffed animal under her arm.

"Go to sleep, li'l boo," Adam whispered gently, pulling back strands of curly hair from her little round face. He played with her fingers for a minute, so short and tiny compared to his owns.

As he tried to pull away, he felt Tristy attempt to hang on. If up to Adam, he knew he would never let her go.

When he at last made it back to his own room, Adam found Sharon holding the remote with her eyes glued to their fifty inch bedroom TV.

"What's wrong, baby?" Adam asked his wife then caught sight of the news story. A fire had been started in a project on the west side of the city.

Sharon looked up at Adam as if to say, "Go."

Adam slipped off his robe as his body melded into the royal purple clad Rubberband Man. "I'll be back," he promised as always before both stretching and flattening his body in order to get out through their partially opened window.

Every piece, all mine, Sharon thought as she watched his unique exit.

*******

Static knew he had to work fast as debris fell down around him. He used his powers to create a field around himself. However, it would only give him breathable air for a short time. Static used his electric telekinesis to move the lamp and overturned chair blocking his path. He got the door open next and found a woman who looked to be in her early twenties inside. She held onto the edge of her bed, clearly only moments away from passing out on the floor.

"Come on!" Static ordered as he got on her feet.

Once she was secured to his side, Static blasted the window open, creating a huge hole in the already crumbling wall. The superhero glided out and carried the woman down where fire fighters waited in front of the tenement.

"How we looking, Chief?," Static asked as he gently handed the young woman over to paramedics for care. Then he heard a very familiar bounce headed his way as RB appeared on the scene. "Rubberband Man."

"Sorry I'm late," the other superhero said.

"You mean right on time," said the fire chief. "There are still two apartments unaccounted for. One on the first floor left and the other on the eighth floor."

"You take the lower," Rubberband Man said to Static. "I got the eighth."

With that, the duo divided up.

Rubberband Man stretched his legs up until he reached to the eighth floor and enlarged his fist to crash in through a window. He inflated his hand to use a gas mask then quickly started down the long hallway. He kicked open doors as he went, looking for any trace of life. The fire had been started at least four floors down so there was not a flame in sight, just a veil of smoke. It was not until he got to the last door that he heard someone. He ran into an open room and saw a young boy crouched over an elderly woman who laid passed out on a couch.

The boy's eyes lit up at the sight of the superhero and he yelled out, "Help! My grandma won't move."

"Hang on!" Rubberband Man formed the shape of a wheel and rolled himself over to the pair.

As the floor started coming down on them, RB thought fast and stretched out long and flat until he was able to wrap his entire body around the boy and his grandmother like a blanket. That done, he balled out of the apartment, down the hall, and out the window he had come through, landing with a pair of bounces on the pavement below.

Firefighters ran up as Rubberband Man unrolled himself, revealing the child and elderly woman safe and sound.

RB pulled himself back together and asked the young man, "You okay?"

"Yeah," the boy replied. "Thanks, Rubberband Man!

"No problem," Rubberband Man told him humbly as he came down off his adrenaline rush; another feeling he had missed while out on the road.

"Come with us, sweetheart," a paramedic instructed as she guided the little boy and his grandmother over to an ambulance.

The child would not stop watching Rubberband Man as he went towards the medical vehicle.

Static flew down on his saucer and landed by his brother-in-law. "An old man went to sleep with his bedtime snack still cooking. Can you believe that? Thank God we got all these people out in time. Thanks for the assist, RB."

"Just glad I could be here," the older man responded.

"Excellent work, heroes," the fire chief commended as he made his way up to them amongst the last of the chaos. "Thank you so much. There's no way my men could have secured everyone in that tenement without you."

"Don't even worry about it," Static said while Rubberband Man stared in another direction vaguely before walking off. "Although, I'm still waiting for one of those shiny helmets."

The chief commented, "You and Rubberband Man make quite the team-up. Though, where's the mini zap you worked with over the summer?"

"You mean Volt," Static said. "Yeah, somehow I don't think midnight fires and curfews are a great mix for a kid his age."

Clearing his throat before he spoke again, the fire chief then inquired, "And Gear?"

"Gear is…" Static tried to think of the best way to explain it. "Working a whole other case right now."

"Oh, I understand," the older fireman nodded. "Well, nonetheless, this city knows it can always depend on you and…" He looked around for a moment. "Where is Rubberband Man?"

The aforementioned hero went up to the back of the ambulance, which had both doors wide open as emergency crew worked back and forth. The boy he had saved from the blaze sat kicking his legs casually while holding an oxygen mask to his face.

"How you doing?" Rubberband Man asked, reaching a hand out to toss at the child's head of short brown curls.

Lowering the mask, he answered, "Okay. That smoke sucked, though."

"I know," RB concurred, taking a seat next to him on the ambulance. "I bet you know for sure not to play with matches now, right?"

"Oh yeah," he answered matter-of-factly. "I'm not that stupid."

Rubberband Man smiled at that. "And you don't look it. What's your name, li'l man?"

"Tony. Hey, you're Adam Evans, too, right? I know all your songs from my auntie."

Before Adam could respond to that, a petite dark haired paramedic approached them. "And how are we doing here?" she asked Tony.

Tony held up the oxygen mask and said, "I think I'm all good now. Where's my grandma?"

"She's doing just fine," the paramedic assured him. "She just got the wind knocked out of her. She also gave us your aunt's number so she should be here to pick the two of you up soon."

"Kay," Tony responded.

The female medical attendant patted his cheek gently before going off to see about the remaining victims.

Having noticed the less than enthusiastic tone the child's voice had taken, Rubberband Man asked, "You want me to here to wait for your auntie with you?"

Surprisingly, Tony shook his head. "Nah. I'm not a little kid. I just turned eleven."

Rubberband Man smirked and feigned offense as he said, "Well, excuse me, grown man." He got a small laugh out of Tony. Then RB's eyes floated over to see Static standing alone, looking beyond pensive. "Listen, I'm going to go check on my partner. You take care of yourself now, all right?"

"Okay," Tony said with a nod. "Thanks, Rubberband Man."

"Hey," he said, "call me RB," then bounced right up and headed in Static's direction. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Static answered as if in a distance. "Why don't you head back without me?"

Rubberband Man folded his long arms across his chest and asked, "And where are you headed?"

"Just to check on somebody."

With a raised eyebrow, the elder male asked, "Would that someone be Gear?" When Static did not respond, RB had his answer. "It's kind of late. You're going over there now?"

"Trust me," Static said with assurance. "I get the feeling a good night's sleep isn't high on his priorities list, among other things."

"I'll go with you," Rubberband Man offered.

"No. He might actually stop to listen if it comes straight from me. I'll catch up with you tomorrow."

As Static flew up on his saucer, Rubberband Man stretched himself up at the waist to give him a last piece of advice. "Just remember, Virgil. All you can do is your best with this. The rest is up to him."

Static smirked and said, "Gee, thanks a lot, Pops."

"Always, son." With that remark, RB played the part of a slinky as he went back down, allowing the electrified hero to fly off.

*******

As the words on the forms he had brought home that night seemed to blur together, Richie simply dropped the multicolored files down to the Central Persian carpeting below him. He reached over the left side of his arm chair to pull his laptop out of its carrying case when his bar caught his eye for at least the fifth time that night. After an inner debate that lasted less than ten seconds, Richie got up and walked less than three feet to make himself a soda and brandy, mostly brandy of course.

"So?" At the sound of the all too familiar voice, Richie whipped his head around to find Static behind him. "Found what you're looking for at the bottom of that bottle?"

"Don't know," Richie answered as he went back to pouring the drink to its brim. "I haven't had a decent chance to finish it yet."

Static shot him a look. "Meaning you actually stopped for an intake of oxygen?"

"How did you get in here? In case you've forgotten, it was called an "emergency" key for a reason," the blonde male said without turning around or missing a sip.

"Didn't need it," Static responded. "Might want to try locking your balcony at night, though. Little superhero tip there."

Richie smiled snidely and said, "If you'll recall, I often had to read that superhero handbook to you."

"Yeah, well, you can get ready to trade in your super power members card," Static informed only partially in jest. "The hell have you been, man? I'm talking about Richie and Gear."

"Closing deals, securing accounts, keeping an entire company's pockets lined," Richie recounted. "Those odds and ends I do throughout the day."

"Wow, that sounds like a nine-to-five kind of thing," Static remarked. "You know, something I know absolutely nothing about what with this hero routine just paying my bills left and right."

"Virgil," Richie put an emphasis on the hero's true name, "perhaps it is time you remembered that all of this is nothing more than in fact a routine. We go through our day to day battles, stopping the "evil doers" where we can and what's it really gotten us?"

Static's eyes literally sparked as he answered fiercely, "Maybe the satisfaction of going to bed at night knowing we've helped to protect so much as one more life out there. Do you remember life, Richie? You valued it once upon a time."

"As with every fool dream, once upon a time needs to stay in fairy tales." Richie took another long sip of brandy. "Are we done?"

"That one's up to you, Rich," Static told him. "Because with the way things have been going, it seems like you're more than done. So much so that it would take too much time out of your busy schedule to check in on your own daughter once in a while."

Richie retorted, "Don't you even think about coming into my house and dictating to me how I treat my daughter."

Somewhat satisfied with getting any kind of a real emotional response out of his childhood long friend, Static pressed on. "Really? Because it seems to me someone needs to dictate something to you. I more than understand what you've lost, Richie, but at this point you can't blame the world. You're the one destroying yourself."

Richie's voice was nothing short of a harsh whisper as he ordered, "Get. Out."

Unmoved, Static replied, "I'm leaving. But if you don't mind, I'll use the front door this time." That said, he made tracks towards the foyer and out the double doors.

Richie gripped his glass tightly until it cracked and burst in his hand. The remaining alcohol dripped through his fingers, mixing in with the blood from the cuts the jagged pieces of broken glass had produced. He thought nothing of the wound as he merely shook the shards onto the floor and started in on another drink. This time all brandy, no soda.

*******

After a third attempt at rearranging some things, Jeannie finally got her enormous US History textbook stashed away. As she reached down to see if she could now find a spot for her thick pink binder, her locker door slammed shut, revealing Beth on the other side of it.

"Someone's looking a little less Cutie," she observed.

Jeannie groaned lightly and ran a hand through her shoulder length hair. "Thanks for the commentary, Beauty, but I'm not in the mood. I just had this out of nowhere quiz in history. Also, thanks to me being tied down to family dinner goodness last night, Pops convinced me to look into Advanced Computing. Now I have to go hunt down my counselor."

"Or," Beth suggested with a mischievous grin, "we could bail."

The shorter girl stared at her for a moment then realized she was being completely serious. "Beth, come on. You already did your big high school class cut thing yesterday."

"Yesterday?" Beth tossed her unbelievably long blonde hair over one shoulder as she said, "Try every day this week."

Jeannie's eyes widened. "You're F-ing kidding me, right?"

Beth returned, "No F-in' way."

"B, have you lost your mind?" Jeannie decided to answer that herself. "Oh, wait, stupid question. Of course you have. Aren't you freaked? They're going to start calling your house."

"Already have," Beth said matter-of-factly. "Probably for a couple days now."

Jeannie frowned in confusion. "And Richie hasn't said boo to you?"

When Beth only shrugged a shoulder, Jeannie found herself feeling a touch of envy. For one thing, Beth got to walk out of the house in clothes Jeannie knew her own parents wouldn't even allow her to look at in a store. That day for example, Beth wore jeans that would restrict any normal person's oxygen supply, a shiny green and blue strapless halter top that made her boobs look all too ready to be released from it, and a thin brown leather jacket. Now clothes completely aside, there was ditching school, calls to home, and staying out late to add to Beth's repertoire.

And Ma and Dad want to say something about me going for pizza, Jeannie could not help thinking.

"So, anyway," Beth spoke again. "You coming with or no?"

Jeannie knew Beth had returned to the subject of skipping class. "B…"

The grinning blonde tried again. "It's Friday."

Despite herself, Jeannie could not help considering it. "Beth, I can't and also you can't. As soon as Richie is off whatever sugar high he's on, you are dead."

"Oh, trust me," Beth said slyly. "He's high on something but it ain't sugar. I'm heading out, though. Send me up a cell signal when you're officially sick of the Good Girls Club." She turned and headed towards the doors but then looked back to say another thing. "Oh, and when I'm dead say something nice at my funeral. I'll be listening." With another hair flip, Beth pushed open both doors and headed down to the first floor.

"She headed for Pep Club?"

Jeannie looked back to see that Raheem had just walked up with his army themed book bag on his back. "To talk to a teacher or something."

Raheem gave her a look. "Lame try at covering, but I did catch the tail end of that conversation. She's ditching class again, isn't she?" When Jeannie answered him by returning to her locker, Raheem just nodded. "Take that as a yes."

"So what are you going to do?" Jeannie suddenly asked him snippily. "Narc on her? Newsflash, the school's already called her house."

The unmoved Raheem tacked on, "And in a related story, maybe somebody should try a face to face with Richie instead of a phone to phone."

"Or maybe Richie's just giving her some space," Jeannie countered. "You know, to do her own thing without being in her face every minute?"

"Or…" Raheem pretended to think before he said, "Richie's the world's dumbest smart guy."

*******

Bobby sat backstage on the couch in the community center, playing a twinge over and over on his guitar, whispering the lyrics to himself. For the most part, he seemed to like what he heard but frowned up every once in a while when a note just was not right to him. When he got through the final verse, he smiled with satisfaction and looked up in time to see his mother headed his way.

"Oh, baby," Sharon cooed over him, holding her hands together in delight. "I can't wait to see you on that stage. You're going to be so good."

"Thanks, Ma," Bobby said gratefully. "Is Dad here yet?"

Sharon waved dismissively and combed through her son's hair with her fingers. "Your daddy's probably riding up right now. He and your Uncle Virgil just had to make a quick stop off."

The way his mother said "quick stop off" made Bobby know that it had to be some Static and Rubberband Man business. The public was more than aware of Adam Evans as Rubberband Man, but Virgil Hawkins as Static was still a secret to most people and the family respected that.

"All right," Robert said, heading over with a clipboard in hand. "We'll be ready to start in a minute or two. Seats are already filling up." He looked down at the child who bore his first name. "All set, Bobby?"

"Yes, Pops," the young guitarist answered. "I think so."

"Good," Robert nodded then turned to Sharon. "Let's get out there."

Sharon bent down to kiss her son's forehead first. "Knock 'em out, baby. Come on, Daddy." She linked arms with Robert and the two went to find their positions at the front of the stage.

Bobby reclined as best he could with his guitar in the wooden chair, watching his fellow performers for a while. He knew he had some competition in the singing department, but most of the girls seemed interested in dancing. One boy had even brought his dog in with him to perform some sort of trick.

As Bobby started to relax into things, he heard his grandfather's voice.

"Welcome to the Freeman Community Center Annual Talent Night," Robert welcomed the audience from where he stood on stage as Master of Ceremonies and head of the center.

As Robert spoke on, Bobby peeked out of the curtain and managed to get a good look at the audience. He saw his mother of course next to Aunt Daisy, who held Tristy in her lap, and his cousins Raheem and Jeannie. However, there was no sign of his Uncle Virgil and worst yet, his father.

Bobby watched as the first contestant, a girl playing flute, rushed by him.

"Hey, baby boy."

The twelve-year-old turned around with a startle at the sight of his father behind him. "Dad," he acknowledged with a grin.

"Uncle V had to do a quick change. I just wanted to sneak back to wish you luck," Adam said. He gave his son's shoulders a gentle squeeze and almost felt them shaking under his touch. "Nervous?"

Bobby shook his head hard. "No, I'm fine."

"It's okay to be a little afriad," Adam assured him. "It still comes on me sometimes."

Looking interested now, Bobby inquired, "Really?"

"Yep, but you know, the trick is to focus on your music and drown out everything else. And don't forget this, me and all the family are right out there for you." Adam patted his shoulders next. "You just go out there, do your thing, and have some fun."

Bobby smiled up at his father, feeling his earlier nerves subsiding. "Thanks, Dad."

Adam gave the boy a quick hug and a wink before folding himself backwards and cart wheeling away, getting a good laugh out of his son.

A pudgy young boy walked up to Bobby and commented, "Your dad's so cool."

"I know," Bobby had to agree.

More acts went on. As kids started leaving backstage, Bobby realized he was second to last. He was glad the twins on stage now were doing some type of a skit from a movie scene and that there had not been a singer on in a while. Bobby let his father's words echo in his head while he drummed his fingers across the smooth sides of his guitar, both of which helped his anxiety.

"Thank you, Jennifer and Joshua Tatum," Robert said as the twins left the stage. "Now it's my pleasure to introduce Robert Evans."

It took Bobby a couple seconds to recognize his own full first name as the audience applauded for what felt like the hundredth time that night. When the realization took place, he let go of a sharp breath then proceeded onto the stage. He looked over at his grandfather who's facial features flowed with support. Then glancing briefly at the audience, Bobby caught Raheem and Virgil giving him twin thumbs up signs, wide grins from the women in the family along with a couple camera flashes from his mother, and an encouraging nod from his father.

That's when Bobby heard Adam's words again. "Go out there, do your thing, and have fun."

All that in mind, Bobby started playing the first few strings on his guitar which led up to a steady melody. He managed to look out towards the audience but looked at no one direction, not wanting to absorb a reaction from any specific person's face. Before long he started in on the lyrics he had rehearsed for so long.

Here I Am at Last

Trying to Pave my Way

Trying to Get there Fast

It's Finally my Day

Bobby slowed down and went higher on his guitar before he held his head up high and continued his son.

I Wonder How Long I have to Go

I Never Thought I'd Feel this Way

I Thought I'd Never Know

It's Finally my Day

As he coursed through the rest of the song, Bobby felt his father's advice take on a very real meaning as he found himself completely into what he was doing. Better yet, he enjoyed every second of it.

When the song finally ended, Bobby gave a final twinge to his guitar, looked out at the audience again, and said with a big smile, "Thank you."

The people in the auditorium wasted no time as they began the chorus of applause. Bobby looked to his right and saw his grandfather clapping with both his hand and his clipboard. Feeling incredible, Bobby took a quick bow before heading behind the curtain once more.

"We've certainly had a wonderful time tonight," Robert said when the applause calmed down somewhat. "It's a little hard to believe it's time to introduce our final act for the night, Antonio Ramos."

Adam clapped with the rest of the audience this stretched his neck out slightly to get a good look at the boy who appeared on the stage next. It was Tony; the boy he had saved just the last night.

"Adam," Sharon chided her husband, making him withdraw his neck.

"I know that kid," Adam whispered to her but had no time to explain as the performance before them began in a big way.

Unable to believe the amount of talent the young boy on stage possessed as he went deeply into an old Li'l Romeo rap, but the words just jumped off. Adam looked around him and could tell the audience was more than sucking it in. Even Raheem and Jeannie, both of whom had clearly only been interested in hearing Bobby.

"Throw 'em up, put 'em up, get 'em up! It takes two," Tony rapped, artistically moving back and forth across the stage floor rhythmically, swaying his arms along with it. "It takes two to make. It takes two!" He did a spin on his heel as he finished it, "It takes two, okay!"

The moment the last lyric left Tony's lips, the audience erupted into wide spread applause and cheers.

Bobby, along with several other contestants in the show, watched the reaction from backstage. Bobby most of all could not believe it when even certain members of the crowd stood just to clap.

"All right. Could I have all of the contestants back on stage?" Robert said cheerfully yet loudly in an attempt to simmer down the audience. He put a hand on Tony's shoulder as Bobby and the other kids came out. "It's been a fantastic night and the children here have shown talent far beyond their years. Unfortunately, we can have only one winner, who will walk away with a fifty dollar Visa gift card. Now, if I could just have the judges' decision…" Robert walked out towards the edge of the stage for the piece of paper handed it to him. He unfolded the note, read the name, and announced, "And the winner of the Freeman Community Center Annual Talent Night is… Antonio Ramos!"

Clearly happy with the decision, the people got up from their seats and clapped loud enough to fill the entire room. The other contestants cheered as well, although Bobby found his hands clapping back and forth a lot slower than everybody else's.

After Tony was awarded, the talent show participants headed back behind the curtain to gather their things. Bobby quietly put his guitar away into its case. Someone walked up behind him as he started to zip it up.

"Wow," the boy said. "I thought for sure you'd win, Bobby. That Antonio kid was unbelievable, though."

"Yeah," a girl around five or six years old agreed.

"Yeah," Bobby said halfheartedly, wanting nothing more than to escape Antonio's newfound fans.

After he was all packed up, Bobby hurried out into the hall to find his family. He spotted his parents first and started their way then felt a shock at the sight of his father talking to Antonio and a young woman who was with him.

"I can't thank you enough for saving my nephew and his grandmother, Mr. Evans," the woman was saying. "I thought after all that, Tony would be too shook up to come here tonight, but he was determined."

"I'm glad I could be there," Adam said, "and I'm glad Tony had the strength to come out here tonight. I haven't seen a young talent like his in a long time."

"Do you mean it, RB?" Tony piped up.

"I wouldn't say it if I didn't," Adam assured. "As a matter of fact, I'm headed for LA tomorrow. I know this is happening fast, but I would love for your nephew to come out with me. I'd like to introduce him to some executives I know."

As Bobby felt his mouth drop, Tony's aunt beamed from ear to ear and exclaimed, "Oh, do you mean it? He's so young, though. Do you honestly think he's that good?"

"I'm so sure of it that if things work out, I want the honor of becoming his agent," Adam said confidently.

"Whoa!" Tony looked up at his aunt and said pleadingly, "Please, Aunt Sandra. I really want to go. Please?"

"I'll have to talk it over with your grandmamma," she replied then looked at Adam. "But I'm sure she wouldn't want him to miss this opportunity."

"Great." Adam reached into his jacket pocket and removed a card. "Take this and call me as early as you can in the morning. It has all my information and I'm sure I could get Tony on my flight."

Sharon chimed in to Adam, "You were so wonderful, sweetheart. You should be really proud of yourself."

Bobby stood back, not bothering to go over and join the conversation. He had been expecting his parents to run up to him the minute they saw him, not go crazy over some other kid.

"Bobby!" The boy glanced over to see his aunt, uncle, sister, and cousins headed his direction.

"Hey, guys," he greeted them, trying to muster up some kind of enthusiasm.

"Look, I don't care what anybody says," said Raheem. "You were the best thing out there, Cous'."

Tristy wrapped her arms around his waist and said, "I really loved your song."

Daisy smiled and said, "I could tell how hard you worked on it. It really showed."

"You're gonna eat 'em alive next year," Virgil said strongly, giving his nephew a playful punch in the arm.

Jeannie suggested, "Hey, maybe you can give us an encore later."

"Sure," Bobby said with a shrug.

"There he is," Adam said as he and Sharon finally approached the scene.

"I knew you would be good," Sharon said, wrapping him into a hug.

"Not good enough," Bobby whispered but his mother heard him.

"I don't even want to hear that," she said. "There will be other contests."

"Your mama's right, son," Adam concurred. "The important thing here is that you really did your thing out there. I'm glad I had to wait to hear the song because it was perfect. As far as I'm concerned, this really is your day."  
Bobby finally brightened at hearing that. "Thanks, Dad."

"Now," Adam continued, lifting Tristy up into his arms. "I was going to take us out for dinner, but since I have to be asleep early tonight, I was thinking we'd head home and order a few pizzas. How's that sound."

"Okay," Bobby agreed immediately.

Jeannie went over and gave Adam's cheek a kiss, which he had to lower down a little for her to do. "Have a good flight. We'll see you when you get back."

"Yeah," said Raheem. "See you, Unc."

"Help your dad out with the," Adam looked around to see that the crowd around them was thinning before he spoke again, "situations around town while I'm away."

"I know," Raheem said, knowing Gear was as of yet still out of the picture.

Daisy said, "Bye, Adam. We'll see you tomorrow, Sharon. Night, kids."

"Night, Aunt Daisy," Tristy said with a wave.

"See you, girl," Sharon said as Daisy ushered their family away. "Well, let's hit it."

Still holding Tristy in one arm, Adam stretched his free one out long enough to drape over both Sharon and Bobby as they headed out to the front of the center. After both kids were secure in the back of Adam's red-orange Hummer, he and Sharon climbed up front. Adam drove them home, knowing his car was yet another family member he would soon find himself missing.

When they reached the front of their house, Adam punched in the electronic security code, allowing the metal gates to spread apart. As soon as the Hummer was safely through, the gates closed softly again. Adam drove into the left of the three car garage. Sharon and Adam collected their children and went inside to order the night's dinner. After a quick cleanup and putting away leftovers, the entire family was more than ready to go to bed.

Bobby got ready to go to sleep pretty quickly, exhaustion from the day weighing in. He changed out of his school clothes and into a pair of pajamas then crawled under his blanket. His parents came in a minute later.

"Good night, my little man," Sharon said, reaching over to kiss the top of his head.

"Night, Mama," Bobby returned.

Sharon got up and headed for the doorway as Adam came over next. "Night, baby boy. I'll be here in the morning when you wake up."

"Okay, Dad." Sharon headed out and Adam started to follow her until he heard his son beckon him again. "Dad? Since it's the weekend do you think I could maybe go to LA with you? Please?"

"Son, now you know I won't be back until Tuesday," Adam reminded him. "And you have school."

"Well, then why can Tony go?" Bobby wanted to know.

"Different situation," Adam answered. "I'm trying to set a career off for him."

"Can't we e-mail my teachers and I can just do my work in LA?"

Adam sighed. "Not this trip, Bobby. Maybe another time."

Getting frustrated, Bobby pressed, "That's what you always say."

"Now that's enough," Adam said firmly. "It might be the weekend for you, but it's not for me. This discussion is closed, got me?"

It was Bobby's turn to sigh as he laid back. "Yes, sir."

"Good night," Adam said finally. He clicked off the light and closed the door after him.

Bobby rolled over to his side and thought for a minute. He knew whenever his dad ordered an issue closed, it always remained close. Bobby stayed awake for a while thinking about how to re-open things.

*******

Richie pressed the flashing button of his desktop intercom and spoke into it. "Yes?"

"Mr. Foley, you have a call trying to come in. They say it's urgent."

"Is it Paul Wright with the Edwards account?"

"No, it's actually the manager of some type of store.

Richie frowned. "What on earth is urgent about that and why are they calling?"

"They told me they've been trying your cell phone for the past fifteen minutes. It must be serious."

With a sigh of pure annoyance, Richie said, "Fine, Vivian. Put them through." The machine clicked over and Richie heard a different woman's voice from his secretary's over the phone now. "This is Richard Foley. What seems to be the trouble?"

"Mr. Foley, my name is Laura Smith with J&H Clothing. I need you to come pick up your daughter Beth immediately."

"I'm afraid I can't get away right now," Richie responded, eyes never leaving his computer. "If she's lost her wallet or something, please send her home in a cab and I'll give you my charge information."

"Well, I'm afraid you'll have to get away," Laura informed him. "Otherwise, we'll be forced to bring in the authorities."

This definitely caught Richie's attention. "What?"

"Mr. Foley, your daughter was caught shoplifting five hundred dollars worth of merchandise out of this store. Unless you come down here at once this turns into a matter for the police."

"No," Richie said right away. "Give me your address. I'll be down within the hour." He jotted down the information quickly. "Right, got it." After the call ended, he clicked off his phone, threw down the pen he had used to write with, and muttered, "Damn it," before promptly getting up.

*******

Tristy, still in her Tigger and Pooh themed nightwear, quietly opened the door to her older brother's room a crack. She saw him so into his sleep that both his pillows rested on top his head. Starting inside with a soft tiptoe, it quickly turned into a dash as Tristy ran the rest of the way to his bed and promptly jumped in it.

"Wake up, wake up," she chanted, jumping up and down lowly on her knees.

From under a pillow, a groan was heard. "Tris…"

"It's time to get up," she informed him, now deciding to pull on his arm. "And Daddy's making breakfast."

Bobby instantly remembered that Saturday had arrived. He looked out from under his pillow to see his clock on the bedside table, which told him it was pushing ten thirty. Their father would have to leave soon and Bobby knew he had to move fast.

"Yeah," he said to his younger sister, practically falling over himself to get out of bed. "Let's go."

Giggling at the older child's sudden enthusiasm, Tristy merely hopped down from the bed and followed him out. Both rushed down to their grand scale kitchen in time to see their father finish up with the stove while their mother enjoyed her morning coffee at the kitchen island nearby.

"Hi, Mama. Morning, Daddy," Tristy greeted brightly, running right for him.

"Whoa, easy, li'l boo," Adam cautioned, turning down the heat on one of the burners. "You see me near this stove."

"Oh, right," Tristy said, realizing her mistake. "Sorry."

Adam stretched an arm down to give her side a little tickle. "Just be careful." Next he handed her a tray stacked with sweet smelling golden pancakes while he held another platter. "Let's go carry this out to the garden. It's too nice a day to stay in here."

"Okay, Daddy," the small eight-year-old agreed. Her tiny feet bounced right behind him out the back kitchen door.

Sharon smiled after them and Bobby sat next to her at the island.

"So, Ma," Bobby attempted to be subtle, "is Tony really going to LA with Dad?"

"You got it right," Sharon confirmed. "His aunt called an hour ago to let us know. Your daddy even managed to arrange a last minute flight for him." Bobby sighed longingly, prompting his mother to ask, "What's the matter, baby?"

"Nothing," Bobby replied with a shrug, resting his elbows on the counter top. "I just really wish I could go with Dad. There are all these really cool sites and museums in LA I'd really like to see. I think it'd be even better than going to school. And I could just bring my homework with me."

"Hm," Sharon hummed thoughtfully. "You have a good point there. Have you talked to your father about all this?"

"Well, it's just that Dad probably won't want me to miss school or anything, but I know I can make it up," Bobby said surely. "I just want the chance to go. So I thought maybe you could talk to Dad about what?"

At the moment, the man of the house came back in, this time in search of maple syrup. "Talk to Dad about what?"

Before Bobby could try to cover, Sharon explained, "Honey, we really do need to talk."

"About what, boo?" Adam asked his wife, going to stand at her side.

"Bobby is really interested in going to LA with you."

"I heard," Adam said, speaking to Sharon but looking directly at their oldest child. "I also told him he's not missing school and that the case was closed."

Sharon raised an eyebrow. "He already talked to you?"

Adam nodded then noticed how tightlipped his son had become. "Bobby, go out into the living room. I want to have a word with you right now."

"Okay," Bobby responded softly as he stood up and went where he was told with his dad close behind him.

"All right," Adam started as Bobby found a sitting spot on the arm of their loveseat. "Did I or did I not tell you this LA discussion was over with?"

"I figured you just meant between you and me," Bobby attempted, "not me and Ma."

Adam gave the boy a fierce look of disapproval. "Don't give me that. You know when I tell you no about something like this, you don't go behind me to your mother. You know better than that, don't you?" When all he received was a low nod as a response, he nudged sternly, "Don't you?"

"Yes, sir," Bobby answered in a voice that subtracted at least six years off his life.

Satisfied now, Adam went on. "After breakfast I want you to go straight up to your room for a while."

Bobby argued immediately. "Aw, Dad, no."

"Do not start it, Bobby," Adam said sharply. "I think you need a little bit of time to remember what you're supposed to do when I tell you something is closed, no matter what it is. Now let's go eat before it gets cold."

The pre-teen did not say anything, just silently went after his father towards the back. As they entered the still flourishing garden, untouched by autumn just yet, Bobby only felt more agitated. He hardly ever got into trouble, let alone punished on a day his father would have to leave for four days. He knew he had only one person to blame, though. That stupid Tony Ramos.

*******

The French doors slammed shut so loudly behind her that Beth was sure her father had broken the glass. However, it did not seem to faze her as she merely marched ahead of the raging businessman.

"Bethany Margaret Foley," he fumed. "Shoplifting? Are you completely out of your mind?"

Although startled for a second by her full name, Beth realized she had been asked that out of mind question several times that week.

"Look," she said, "you can go back to work now. They dropped the charges. And it was just a few things."

"A two hundred dollar jacket and three hundred dollars worth of clothes and jewelry is not a few things," Richie retorted. "And I really don't care if it was so much as a stick of gum. Do you see where you live? Do you look at what you eat? Did you never notice that your closet is already so overflowing with clothes you already own, it's violated city regulation more than once? There is no remotely acceptable or sane reason in the world for you to even think about stealing."

"Whatever," Beth dismissed as she headed for the stairs, but surprise shot through her as she was pulled back fiercely by the arm.

"I am not even close to finished with you." Richie kept a vice grip on her as he spoke. "First, I have my voicemail exploding with calls from your school, asking for conferences because you seem to get lost on your way to class. But to sink yourself so low into petty thievery just for kicks? No, not as long as you carry my last name."

Beth tried to break away from him as she said maliciously, "Well, why don't you just have a kid who can actually honor your name? You know the third time is supposed to be the charm."

Less than a second after the snide remark left her lips, Richie's backhand came like a lash of fire right across her mouth. Too stunned to speak, the teenaged girl who now looked the picture of a timid four-year-old used her free hand to cover the area that had been struck while her glossed brown eyes stared in near terror at her father.

"You selfish, ungrateful, senseless little smart ass." Richie's voice stayed low yet sharp as he went on, squeezing tighter on the thin arm of hers he held. "Don't in your wildest dreams speak to me that way. Ever. If you can't seem to use the half common sense you have, I will simply send you somewhere to have you controlled. I don't care if it's boarding school in Connecticut or a convent in Switzerland. Do I make myself very clear?"

Still unable to speak, Beth managed a shaky nod.

"You will not end up a cheap little traitorous slut like your mother." Richie finally unhanded her with that. "Get out of my sight." When no movement occurred on the part of the girl, Richie barked, "Now!"

Beth flinched then made a mad dash for the stairs, unable to stop until she reached the safety of her bedroom.

Not bothering to watch her depart, Richie made a move for his bar. He picked up the clear bottle of vodka, studied the label for a moment, then promptly threw it right against a painting on the back wall, causing them both to smash upon contact. A whole new breed of rage overtook the strapping male blonde in that moment as he flipped over the entire beverage cart. He left behind deep puddles of multiple wasted drinks and an unknown amount of shattered glass as he went into his home office and slammed the door after himself.


	2. Part 2: Missing Pieces

A/N: References to the past will be made throughout this story, so please let me know if that becomes confusing.

Self-Destruction Part 2: Missing Pieces

Marissa made what, in her current condition, felt like a mile long stride down the second floor hallway. Her soft slipper covered feet moved for the bedroom only two doors down from the master and worked the polished brass doorknob to get inside. Upon entering, the first thing her brown eyes took notice of was the silver four-legged mechanical creature known as Backpack. The device acknowledged her presence with a wave of his long retractable eye.

"Backpack, I don't suppose you know where Richie Foley, my husband/your creator can be found?"

Backpack answered the inquiry by pointing his bright red eye towards the closet. Marissa followed the simple direction towards the door in the corner that led into the small storage room. Her ears finally picked up on some sort of metallic scraping. Only then did she finally spot her husband, who on first glance appeared to be possessed by Static, having electrical sparks shooting out of his hand and all.

The woman called to him, "Richie?"

The aforementioned male spun on his heels, holding a mini blow torch over a white handheld device. Marissa could only be grateful that he had remembered to put on his goggles… this time.

"I'm deathly afraid to ask," she folded her arms over her chest and formed an inquisitive expression, "but what are you doing?"

"What, this?" Richie held up what he had been working on as he stepped out of the closet. "Just look how I rigged up Beth's old baby monitor. Now we can pick up little kiddy cries from at least ten miles away. That's not all. I already have the plans together for a self-cleaning changing table." Richie appeared thoughtful as he rubbed his chin. "If only I could figure on how to convert that into diapering."

Marissa now lowered her hands so that they rested on her wide spread hips. "Of course. I thought you were up here deciding on wallpaper samples."

"Oh, hey, I did that, too," Richie remembered. "Definitely good with the little baby Super Mario Brothers. I can picture it now. He'll be riding Yoshi in his sleep, stepping on the backs of evil turtle creatures."

"Mad scientist and interior decorator," Marissa noted. "What really bothers me is the fact that that particular combination has always been a fantasy of mine."

"Really?" Richie sat down his tools and made an attempt at seductive as he removed his goggles. "You mean all this time you've been using me for my mind and creative eye?"

"Maybe." Marissa bobbed her head to the side in a motion that made all of her golden brown hair fall to her right side. "Want to do something about it, Gear?" As he promptly tipped his face forward for an opportunity to kiss her, Marissa pulled back and said, "Better go pick Bethie up from ice skating."

Richie let out a frustrated moan. "You're a villainess."

"And that would be one of _your_ fantasies."

"Eh," he shrugged. "You're no Poison Ivy."

Marissa's mouth dropped. "Richard!" She whacked him on the forearm.

"Hey, hey, Riss! Kidding, joke!" he said, trying to stifle his laughter and stop her assault. Richie wrapped both arms around her and pulled the now pouting woman close to him. "Fifteen years and it's still you. Always you."

The words clearly having some effect on her, Marissa warmed up and said, "And only you has the brain big enough to get yourself into trouble and right back out of it in the last fifteen years."

"Hey, I'm a mad scientist, interior decorating, superhero," Richie reminded her. "It's what we do." He snagged a quick kiss from her and grinned. "All right. I'm heading out."

"Okay," Marissa said then let out a large puff of air and took hold of her stomach with both hands.

"Whoa, easy." Richie steadied her over to the rocking chair to sit down. "Riss, you all right?"

"I'm fine," Marissa assured, offering him a smile. When Richie looked unconvinced, she took his hand and touched it to her lower belly. "We're just fine."

Feeling his unborn child do something of a flip or turn inside his mother, Richie relaxed. "Okay, well, I have to go pick up your big sister. You let Mommy get some rest. You hear that, Little V?"

"Little V?" Marissa echoed, popping up an eyebrow.

Richie looked the part of a deer in the headlights for a moment. "Uh, yeah, about that. Okay, so I've been meaning to bring this up, but see, Virgil and me have had this thing since we were little saying that if we both had a son we'd name him after the other. You know, like how Raheem's middle name is Richard."

"Uh huh," Marissa followed along. "So now I guess our son is going to have to be… Patrick Virgil."

"Patrick Virgil? No, no, dear wife. Try David Virgil."

"Patrick," Marissa said stubbornly.

Richie's tone was equal to hers as he returned, "David."

Marissa took both sides of his face, leaned in and kissed him fiercely. "Patrick," she whispered once pulling back.

Richie instantly agreed, "Patrick."

Beth rushed right through the thin seafoam green curtains that surrounded her canopy bed and fell out across the queen sized mattress. Though her shining eyes begged for the opportunity to cry, the tears seemed in refusal to come. They were replaced by the young teen's near hyperventilation as she breathed heavily while putting a locked grip with both hands on her floral themed bedspread. She found herself able to sit up after a few minutes.

Hugging her long legs close to her chest, Beth rocked back and forth, trying to absorb what had taken place downstairs. Her father had not shown anywhere near that type of emotion or downright fury since… Beth shook her head of that last time, not wanting to revisit it herself. She touched three fingers to the side of her mouth. The sting Richie had left from the blow had subsided, though the area of her face still felt warm. She glanced to her right and noticed her vanity. Unable to get a good look from where she sat on the bed, Beth managed to get up, walk over, and look directly into the mirror. The skin on the corner of her mouth and top lip had a disheartening redness to it.

Despite her earlier crime and everything else she had done of late, Beth still could not wrap her head around the fact that her father had actually done that to her face. Before that day, she had never been smacked anywhere except her hand or behind and it had been a good long while since she felt a strike to either one of those areas.

Beth spun around with a small startle at a mechanical whizzing behind her.

She let out a relieved sigh upon seeing her small robotic pal. "It's just you, Minipack."

The girl took a seat at her vanity bench while Minipack crawled up the side with the aid of the drawers until she reached the top of the wooden dressing table. Both gazed into the mirror in a way that suggested they were out to find the looking glass. Beth herself felt trapped in a parallel universe. One she sought to escape.

*******

Volt held onto Static by the biceps as the two flew through Dakota on the latter's metallic saucer. Their Saturday afternoon patrol had only been going on for half an hour but so far they had not run into anything outside of a few lone jaywalkers.

Taking a moment to glance down as the sites of the city blurred together, Volt still found it all hard to believe. Sure, as far back as he could remember he knew he had superpowers that differentiated him. In fact, they had kept him from doing a few things he wanted to here and there. Now, to be flying, thanks to Static, over town and stopping crime like a high voltage cop… overwhelming made the situation an understatement in Volt's mind.

Static's voice jarred him from his thoughts. "You okay back there?"

"What?" Volt shook his head out. "Yeah, I'm good. We just- Dad, check it!"

Static barely looked down in time as a fresh off the lot Cadillac Escalade went whipping down the street below them. Knowing the speed limit on that avenue could not have been more than forty miles an hour, Static decided to slow the insane driver before he hurt himself or someone else.

"Hold on tight," Static instructed Volt before he took off after the Cadillac.

When he made a pass for the back tires, Static cursed his luck as the zap of electricity honestly bounced right off. He knew rubber to be an insulator of course, but at the rate the car currently moved there was no safe way to send a charge to any other part without the driver getting electrocuted.

"I got it," Static announced once he had a plan in the works. "Volt, aim for the rims."

Doing as directed, Volt used a pointer finger to send an electrical arrow-ish shot the back right rim while Static did the same to the left. The effort succeeded in stopping the car from behind and the vehicle stopped moving entirely after a few seconds. As soon as it did, though, the driver and his passenger, both a couple of boys not much older than Volt, climbed out. Upon gazing up to see who had stopped them, the pair immediately retreated in opposite directions.

"Car jackers," Volt realized, having learned about the behaviors of such petty crooks through Static.

"You hit it on the head," Static concurred, dropping Volt off on a building top. "You head east after the one in the cap. I got his buddy on north."

Volt nodded and started leaping rooftops while Static took flight again. Keeping an eye on the green and black cap that distinguished the passenger from the car, Volt watched as he entered an alleyway on a one-way street. Jumping down from the low roof he currently resided on, Volt looked around for the other teenager, who seemed to disappear within the very air.

"Here, kitty, kitty," Volt taunted as he passed by a pair of dumpsters.

Unknown to him, the very "kitty" he was hunting for emerged from behind one of the trash holders. Volt felt something and looked back in time to see the guy charging at him with a two-by-for in hand.

Then, as if straight out of Heaven, a silver ball fell out of the sky. The second the sphere made contact with the car thief's back, it exploded into a thick metallic cocoon, trapping him. Volt stood absolutely still. With wide eyes he stared as none other than Gear glided down before him on his rocket powered skates.

"Watch your back," he advised plainly. "You think your father would have taught you that much on day one."

"Gear?" Volt's expression read between confused and delighted. "What are you doing here?"

"I tracked you and Static down via shock-vox," Gear explained, referring to the small walkie-talkie device he had put together when Static first began his superhero routine. "Figured you could use my help more."

Finished with his explanation, Gear bent at the knee and took hold of the teenager he had caught by the back of the metal rope that contained him. After he glared daggers at him for a moment behind the green and white helmet/visor he wore, Gear abruptly threw the boy up against a pile of trash cans.

The move made Volt wince slightly but his attention refused to be distracted as Gear went over and took hold of the auto thief once more.

"So," Gear said to him casually. "You got a name?"

"J-Johnny," came the stuttered reply.

"Johnny?" Gear gave a tisk with his tongue. "How about a reason? As in a reason why you were about to clobber my young friend here with a menacing piece of wood and also why he was after you in the first place."

Johnny squirmed and attempted to kick his free legs to get out of Gear's hold but quickly found in vain. "We were just having some fun. A quick joy ride. It wasn't even my idea. It was-"

Gear cut him off before he could rant on. "A joy ride? A free ride in a stolen car you mean." He opened the hand he held the boy with, causing Johnny to fall to the concrete below like an oversized caterpillar held prisoner in its own cocoon. All the color seemed to drain from the young male's face as Gear paced around him circularly. "You all start out the same. A pissed off little fucker out to have some fun. Because for you, stealing is fun." He delivered a kick to Johnny's rope covered side. "Violating other people's property is fun." Another kick. "Deciding you're so pissed off at your parents that you're going to see to it that you're a humiliation and shame upon them with every move you make."

Volt looked on as Gear lifted Johnny up again, this time by the front and high enough so that the teen's legs dangled off the ground.

"Are you having fun yet, Johnny?" Gear wanted to know. At no response, he shook him hard. "I said, are you having fun you stupid little punk?"

"No," Johnny managed to reply, near tears at this point.

"Gear?" Only Volt looked up to see Static making a landing in the alley with the other car thief in tow. After a good static cling to the left wall to keep the guy from taking off, Static looked to his friend again. "I don't believe it."

"Static," Gear spoke without bothering to look back at him. "You're just in time to watch me teach John Boy here what happens when you're out to have some fun at other people's expense."

"I know," Static agreed. "He and his running buddy are both ready to go into custody."

Gear said, "Hm. I was thinking something a little less… lenient.

Worried by that tone, Static wanted to know, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means the boys in blue can have their turn as soon as I'm finished," Gear responded firmly. "And when I am finally done with John here, his little cohort is next."

"Hey." Static put a hand on Gear's shoulder. "Just take it down a notch. Put the kid down."

Gear returned, "I'll think about it afterwards."

"That wasn't a request, Gear," Static said strongly. "Just put him down and leave it to the police."

Turning his helmet/visor covered face to Static for a moment then to Volt who seemed to do nothing but watch the older two superheroes with keen interest, Gear finally placed eyes back on the terrified youth in his current possession.

"If you move so much as a quarter of an inch," Gear said to Johnny lowly, "I will see to it that you never move again." With that threat sealed, he dropped the boy down again.

Not taking his eyes off Gear, Static said, "Volt, go grab a squad car."

Taking the crystal clear hint, Volt quickly made his way out of the alley.

"I take it you're not too thrilled with my reappearance," Gear noted.

"No, that I'm fine with. I just want to know when Gear got replaced with Hancock."

"Maybe I'm sick of using the kid gloves," Gear said sharply. "These punks'' parents pussyfooted over them and now look where they are. Gang bangers, criminals, less than nothing."

Knowing all that to be mostly true, Static still said, "That's not good enough reason to beat the jolly ranchers out of them." He gave the green armored hero a thump to the chest.

"Look," Gear snapped, taking hold of Static's glove covered wrist, "you may have started this business here in Dakota, but you failed to get a patent over it. Let's say you deal with trash like this your way," he indicated the car jackers, "and I'll deal with them however it takes."

Gear let go of Static and promptly blasted away on his skates.

"So?" Volt asked when he came back into the alley, complete with police. "Is Gear back?"

"No," Static answered, "but Hancock sure is packing issues."

*******

Somewhere between blowing through the take-home questions in her new Advanced Computing textbook and trying to decipher ninth grade algebra, Jeannie heard a tapping at her window. She got a surprise upon looking back and seeing Minipack taking another rap at the glass. Jeannie put down her pencil and went to the window next to the foot of her bed and opened it as wide as it would go.

"Beth?" she said, seeing that the girl in question had used Minipack as a climbing apparatus. "What are you doing?"

"Right now?" Beth reached the windowpane. "Trying not to break my face."

Jeannie took her hand and helped her inside the rest of the way. "How about using the door next time?" The brunette studied the blonde for a moment. "Are you okay?"

Beth took a seat on the edge of the bed as she whispered, clearly trying to keep her voice together, "No."

Wasting no time, Jeannie took up the space beside her, putting an arm around Beth's shoulder. "B, what happened?"

Shaking her head, the other girl answered honestly, "I don't even know anymore."

"B, come on," Jeannie urged gently as Minipack went to sit diligently at their feet. "You have to talk to me here."

"I went to J&H and they ended up calling my dad," Beth started.

Confused now, Jeannie asked, "Why? Did you max out your card or something?"

"I didn't even use it." Beth looked at her before she said softly, "A few hundred dollars worth of stuff accidentally fell into my purse."

Confusion now replaced with utter shock, Beth exclaimed, "You F-ing shoplifted? Beth, what is the matter with you? I almost wish you were on drugs or something because then you would be too distracted to get high off life."

"I know I'm an idiot, J. And according to my dad, I'm a whole list of other things."

"What did Richie say?"

"Before or after he hit me?"

Not wanting to believe it, Jeannie spoke her thought. "He didn't. Richie would never..." Beth looked at her seriously and that's when Jeannie noticed the fading redness around her mouth. "Oh, my God. He actually, like really hit you?" Jeannie got to her feet and walked her room a little. "Unbelievable."

"J, that's not the end of it," Beth said, getting her best friend's attention in full again. "He said he would send me away. As in far, far away and it didn't matter where."

Eyes wide, Jeannie raved, "No way! I don't care what it takes, B. Even if it means we have to dig a tunnel underneath my house for you to live in, you are not going anywhere."

"Jeannie, good plan and all, but could you keep it down?" Beth urged her, darting her eyes towards the partially open door. "I just want to get away right now. I don't want to see anybody, least of all the Richie Foley fan club found in this house."

"Oh, don't even worry about that," Jeannie assured her but still went to close the door. "Ma won't be home from the café until dinner and Dad and Heem are on patrol. You can crash here for however long it takes."

Beth rested her head on Jeannie's shoulder once the latter returned to the bed, "What if I just want to crash and burn?"

Shifting on the bed slightly, Jeannie wrapped both arms around the taller girl. She did not necessarily know what to say in that instance, but she knew something most definitely had to be done. What, she did not know yet.

*******

An excited shriek sounded from the mouth of the recently turned fourteen-year-old as the remains of the eight foot Christmas tree timbered down.

"Ouch!" Richie cried out when his thumb came in contact with a pine needle. At the giggle from his daughter, he said, "Oh, that's right. Just laugh at your father who hand picked your brand new ice skates, the cell phone, the skis, and a whole pile up of other things that puts you on the top ten list of people who should honor their parents."

"Oh, please," Beth smirked. "You know Mom always helps you out with the gifts."

"Yes, she does," Richie admitted as he started dragging the large rear of the tree purposefully towards the wide back door. "But with the fatigue she's been feeling, I did most of the shopping."

Holding onto the front of the tree, Beth asked, "So, this does count as Patrick's official first Christmas?"

"The way his little soon-to-be butt made out like a bandit?" Richie said with a smile as they made it through the door that led outside to the garbage cans. "Of course it does. I swear, I don't know what I'm going to do when," they laid the tree down horizontally in front of the cans, "I have both of you around here driving me crazy."

"When have I ever driven you crazy?" Upon her father's look, Beth tried again. "Okay, when have I driven you crazy today?"

"That's right. You do have this oft tendency to turn into a little angel around the holidays," Richie recalled. "Can't imagine why."

"It's only good through Groundhog Day," Beth informed him. "Take it or leave it." She managed to dash out of the way before her father could grab her and ran back inside and up the closest flight of stairs. "Mom, your husband's psychotic!"

Beth entered the master bedroom as she said it. Her mother did not look up from where she laid in the enormous bed, facing the bathroom door. Beth thought she must have been sleeping, as that had become her mom's top extracurricular activity of late. The thin teenager went over and got under the covers to lay beside her for a moment. It was then that she noticed a thick maroon residue that seemed to be flowing through the white bed covers.

With a toss of her hand, Beth removed the quilt to see that the redness covered her mother from the waist down.

"Mom?" Beth spoke, shaking Marissa by the arm and when that produced no response, she did it a little harder. "Mama!"

Still no movement, Beth leapt up from the bed and sped out of the room. "Daddy! Daddy, come quick. Mom's bleeding!"

Daisy arrived home that evening a little after seven. She wore black slacks and wedge shoes, and her white "Cyber Café and Coffee" form fit t-shirt. She had straightened up her dark hair into a neat bun and tidied up her makeup before she had went off-shift. After draping her coat and purse across the arm of the chair the family often used as their unofficial coat rack, she started up the stairs to see who she could find.

With a light knock to the first brown door on the second level, she called, "Jeannie? Baby, you in there?"

After a moment, she heard her daughter's reply. "Yeah, Mama." Jeannie poked her face out the door but made sure there was no comfortable way to see into her room. "I thought you weren't going to be back 'til eight."

Her tone sounded grateful as she explained, "Things slowed down so I left Denise in charge. Where's your daddy?"

"He and Raheem just dropped by for a snack. They're on night patrol."

"Perfect," Daisy smiled. "Since the boys are out, how about you and me put on some mac and cheese and finish off the key- lime pie? You can pick the movie."

Jeannie hesitated for less than a second before she said, "I'm really busy, Mama. I've been trying to make sense of this new software Mr. Peterson says I need to get caught up on."

"You know, we just had to update the computers at the café. They're forever coming out with something new. Let me take a look." Daisy started to open the door wider, but Jeannie held on tighter.

"Thanks, Ma, but I think I got it."

Daisy looked into her daughter's eyes for a moment, as if able to read that something was not quite right. "Baby, you know it's Saturday. It seems like we haven't spent any one-on-one time together in a while and you can work on your homework all day tomorrow."

"I know, but maybe we can hang out tomorrow instead. I'm not trying to blow you off, Ma, I swear. I just really want to get this done."

At last, Daisy agreed. "All right. Still let me know if you need any help, okay?"

"Okay," Jeannie returned then popped back inside her room, closing the door.

Still wondering what all that was about, Daisy decided to let it go for now and went back downstairs to the living room. She picked the remote up off the long coffee table and took a seat in the middle of the couch. Before she could make the choice between HBO and Showtime, a heavy-handed knock erupted from the front door. Putting the remote to the side for now, Daisy stood and went for the door.

Seeing her visitor on the other side, Daisy felt her eyes grow a little. "Richie?"

"Hi, Daisy," the tall male on the other side greeted. He stepped in, allowing Daisy to close the door again. "Listen, Beth isn't in her room and she left her phone up there. I figured she'd be down here."

Daisy started to answered, "No, I don't think so," but then thought for a second. "Come with me."

Richie nodded and the two climbed the stairway together until they found themselves outside Jeannie's door.

Daisy knocked for the second time that night and said, "Jeannie, open the door please."

The young teenager did so. Only this time, she stepped her entire body out instead of just her face.

At the sight of Richie, she tensed up a bit but managed to seem calm. "What's going on, Ma?"

Daisy cut straight to the point when she asked, "Jeannie, is Beth in there?"

Jeannie immediately shook her head, causing the short ponytail she had tied her hair into to move a bit. "No, I haven't seen her since yesterday at school."

"So she actually went to school for five minutes," Richie commented. "There's a shock."

Daisy obviously was not convinced because the next thing she said was, "Move aside, Jeannie."

Her daughter frowned and accused, "Wait, you honestly don't trust me? Ma, I'm telling you, she's not in here."

Keeping her own calm, Daisy returned, "If that's the case then step aside and let me see for myself."

Knowing it to be no use at this point, Jeannie finally opened her door wide, allowing the adults entry.

"Beth?" she heard Richie call. "Bethany?"

Jeannie squeezed her eyes shut, ready for it all to hit the fan then she heard her mother's voice. "She's not in here."

Opening her eyes again, Jeannie said to herself, "She's not?" She came into the room and saw her closet door open and presumed they had looked in there and under the bed. Not only did Jeannie not see Beth, but there was also no trace of Minipack. Unable to say anything else, Jeannie said, "I told you I haven't seen her since yesterday."

Sighing in annoyance, Richie said, "I'll start calling around to her friends."

"You can do that here," Daisy told him. "I'll put on some coffee and call Virgil to look out for her."

"Right," Richie nodded.

Jeannie watched them leave out then looked to her open window. She walked over and lowered it silently.


	3. Part 3: Loss and Reappearance

Self-Destruction Part 3: Loss and Reappearance

Feeling the sudden vibration, Static removed his cell phone from the inner pocket of his coat.

"Hey, Dais," the hero spoke into the handheld device after viewing the Caller ID. "We're heading back now."

"Honey," Daisy said, "we have a problem. Richie's over here and he can't find Beth. Jeannie hasn't even seen her."

"Hang on." Static looked to his son and asked, "You seen Beth recently?"

Volt shook his head. "Not since she cut out of school yesterday."

Static returned to his phone. "Heem hasn't seen her, either. Tell Rich not to worry, though. We're going to scan the neighborhood now." The husband and wife said their goodbyes and Static returned his phone to its holding place. "I tried to tell Richie to keep his eye on that girl. Now she's taken off without a word."  
"Sounds like the Bubble Blonde I know," Volt said from where he hung onto his father on the saucer.

Static and Volt flew lowly over the tops of buildings and houses. They only had a touch of sunset left and they intended on taking advantage of every orange ounce of it.

After they charged through eight blocks with no luck, Static spoke. "I just don't know what to say about Richie lately. Not even just this. I mean that whole Hancock meets Terminator thing from earlier."

Volt replied after a moment. "Maybe he doesn't have the worst idea."

Static raised the left eye of his gold rimmed sunglasses to peer out at the boy. "Say again?"

"Don't you always say how you hate the way a lot of those hoods always end up back on the street as soon as somebody makes bail for them?" Volt pointed out. "Big Rich was just going to rough 'em up a little. A lot better than the police would."

"Big Rich didn't have a clear head. He looked more like he wanted to beat the long lasting tar out of that Johnny kid alone. Something's going on with him. He just won't-" Static cut himself off with that. "And I don't think this is something I should be discussing with my sixteen-year-old son."

Volt countered, "Who you fight crime with."

"Who I teach to fight crime," Static corrected as the two continued their search.

*******

Sound muted and images blurred together. Richie mindlessly removed his glasses and used one hand to wipe them off on the pine covered sweater he wore. Once he put them back on, the world seemed even harder to see. He managed to make out the figure in white before him, who appeared to be speaking. His words were inaudible yet crystal clear at the same time. He could not have been talking to him, though, Richie thought. No, impossible. All he had on his agenda for that day was clearing away holiday decorations. Not this. Never this. There would never be an occasion for this.

"Mr. Foley?" The doctor tried again with the silent man in front of him. "Mr. Foley, do you understand?"

With a nod, Richie responded, "I… I do."

"We'll keep you updated," the doctor told him. He took his leave just as pairs of footsteps came up behind Richie.

"Rich," came Virgil's voice.

He turned around to find his best friend and Robert, who told him, "We left your parents another message. They should be on their way."

Virgil said, "Sharon and Adam are taking an earlier flight back now and Daisy went to pick up the kids." Virgil's eyes gazed imploringly as he asked, "How is she? How's the baby?"

Richie folded both hands together and held them up to his mouth for a moment's time before he spoke. "They're calling it pregnancy toxemia. They weren't able to recognize the symptoms of hypertension until it was…" Richie looked to the green and white tile below him. "Marissa just won't wake up."

"Richie," Robert chimed up then spoke slowly and purposefully. "What happened to the baby?"

Finally looking up again, Richie said with a tremor in his voice, "His lungs are barely developed. They put him on a ventilator, but they're telling me he probably won't survive the night."

*******

Opening his eyes, Richie awoke to find himself stretched out on the adjoining corner of his sectional sofa. He glanced at his watch, but finding the silver timepiece too foggy to read, he felt around for his glasses and slipped them on. Five after nine, the time read. Richie quickly recalled the last time he had glanced at a clock, around six AM. That meant he had dozed off for at least two hours. He still wore his pale blue button down shirt and dark gray slacks from the previous day.

Gripping his Blackberry Smartphone, which he had made his own unique modifications to, Richie immediately started going through the messages he received.

"No sign from the west side of town, Rich," Virgil informed him. "We're heading towards the north now."

"Sorry, Mr. Foley, I haven't seen Beth. She wasn't in music class yesterday, either."

Robert came next. "Richie, have you heard anything yet? Keep me posted."

Running an angry hand through his already messed hair at not receiving any new information, it was only then did the CEO's sense of smell kick in to join his sight and hearing. A familiar aroma of bacon frying floated from the kitchen; a fragrance that particular room had not known for a long time. Richie got up, stretched a bit, then allowed his nose to lead the way.

Deja vu blasted throughout him when he walked into the kitchen, only to find his mother at the oven, preparing what could only be called a gourmet breakfast while his father sat at the table with a cup of coffee.

"Mom?" he addressed first. "Dad?" He also had to wonder how many of those emergency keys he had handed out the day he signed the deed to the mansion.

"Oh, honey," Maggie said. She lowered the heat on the stove, transferring the skillet of bacon over to join the eggs. "You're up."

"It's about time," Sean piped in.

Shooting her husband a look under her spectacles, Maggie turned back to the younger male in the room. "We got here a couple hours ago. We saw you sleeping and figured you'd been up all night."

Richie rubbed the back of his head and asked, "How did you even…?"

"Robert called us," Sean told him matter-of-factly. "Imagine that. It's seven in the morning and we have to hear from word of mouth that Beth took off."

"Sean, don't start," Maggie urged.

"No," the strong, stout man said to her plainly as he pushed back his mug and got to his feet. "Your little girl's been missing since last night, Richie. Why haven't you called the cops?"

"Look, if I involve the police, this will only turn into yet another media circus in my life," Richie told him.

"And of course saving your precious image is more important than your daughter's wellbeing," Sean cut off the explanation. "I'd like to know where you get this damn fool's mentality from."

Richie came closer upon his father as he retorted, "Been in a mirror lately?"

With that, Maggie stepped in between them. She put a hand on Richie's chest and separated Sean with the silver spatula she held.

"Enough," the red haired woman insisted. "Just stop it. None of this is going to bring Beth home any sooner. Now, Richie, if you think calling the police won't do you any good then you to get back out there the minute you're finished eating."

"That's the plan, Ma, but I'll be taking breakfast to go," Richie said. "I know Beth well enough to know that wherever she is, she has to be safe and sound. I'll have her home before noon."

"We'll see," Sean said doubtfully.

*******

"Ma, this is not fair," Jeannie cried.

Daisy continued putting on her jacket as she explained for what felt like the thousandth time that morning, "Jeannie, we don't have time to go over this. Sharon is coming with us on the search and she'll be a lot more focused if the kids aren't underfoot. She needs you to watch them."

"But Beth is my best friend," Jeannie said adamantly. "Pops can easily watch them. Why do I have to baby-sit while Raheem goes? Why do I have to be sidelined just because I don't have powers?"

"I do not want to argue about this, Jeannie," Daisy shot back in frustration. "And you already know Pops is not going to sit down if anything is wrong with one of you kids. Your best place right now is staying with your cousins."

"Fine," Jeannie finally gave in albeit not too happily.

After watching her mother leave out the door, Jeannie went upstairs to her room to pack up her Toshiba laptop. As she got her charger and wireless mouse together, she could not help but wonder where Beth could have possibly gotten to. She had climbed out of the window so fast the other night, anyone who would've seen it probably would have thought her underwear was on fire. Jeannie had hoped that a couple of the friends Richie had called around to were lying and only covering for Beth that way she herself had tried before the parental interference came into play.

Once everything she wanted to bring was set, Jeannie got on her purple Murray bike and pedaled until she stood outside the iron gates of her aunt and uncle's grand house. She punched in the visitor's code, which caused the gates to spread apart. Jeannie rode the rest of the way down the path. When she made a move for the front door, she found it already unlocked.

"There you are, baby," Sharon acknowledged when she stepped into the hallway. The short, curvy woman was already dressed, purse and all. "I cannot believe little Miss Beth is out there doing God knows what."

"Yeah," Jeannie concurred vaguely. "Did you call Uncle Adam?"

"No," Sharon answered, "because I know your uncle and he will fly right back out here. I do not want him coming all the way back because Beth wants to pull some bull like this."

Tristy popped up behind her mother and ran for her older cousin. "Hey, Jeannie," the little girl greeted excitedly.

Jeannie knelt down and gave her a little hug. "Hey, girlie."

"Bobby's up in his room and I'll probably be gone most of the day," Sharon started giving off the instructions. "You can just put them together some sandwiches for lunch. Don't let them go overboard with candy and chips. And if your uncle calls the house today, don't tell him about this."

"Okay," Jeannie said with a nod. "Got it."

Sharon gave her niece a kiss on the cheek and said. "And I swear, you better not ever pull something like this the way Beth has." Putting that tidbit out there, Sharon took hold of her car keys and left out.

Jeannie glanced down at Tristy, who stared bright brown eyes at her. "Is Beth in big trouble?"

The older girl's answer was, "I hope not."

*******

Adam literally bounced around the living area of his penthouse hotel room. He talked into his cell with his left ear and the room phone with his right one, all the while trying to wiggle on his shoe. As he talked between the two people, he watched Tony sitting at the counter top of their small kitchen section, eating a giant bowl of cocoa puffs.

"Okay, all right," Adam said into the hotel phone before hanging up, now only into his cell. "I understand. Yeah, I'll see you, man." He pressed the red button on the cell and turned to Tony. "Guess who just landed his own tour bus to represent across the west coast."

The young boy dropped his spoon and exclaimed, "Are you serious?"

"I'll be handling your PR up until Tuesday. You're going to have to put in some heavy rehearsal but if all goes well, you'll have your first concert for the big shots on Friday night."

"Yes!" Tony cheered, jumping up from the bar still he currently sat on. He ran over and hugged Adam around the waist. "Thank you, thank you! This is so cool, RB. I'm gonna be rich."

Adam laughed and said, "Hold on, little super star. Let's just take it one day at a time." He sat down on the couch and pulled Tony over to stand before him. "Now look, while I'm handling the business I want you on your homework. We're going to be gone longer than I thought and I don't want you behind in school. Got me?"

"Yeah, sure," Tony agreed eagerly, able to hear a live crowd calling his name already.

*******

Jeannie sat at the kitchen table of her aunt and uncle's house, typing away on her instant messaging conversation. According to all of her friends, none of them had seen so much as a glimmer of Beth, which left Jeannie completely baffled. How could Beth just slip out of her window and be gone without a trace like a thief in the night? Of course, considering Beth's whole shoplifting fiasco, that particular analogy spoke quite true to life.

"What are you doing?"

Jeannie turned to her right to see Tristy standing next to her. "Just an e-mail thing." She had obviously been too caught up to even hear the little girl come in.

"Can we eat now?" Tristy asked. "Breakfast was forever ago."

Smiling at her little cousin, Jeannie glanced at the clock and saw that it read 11:25. An early lunch would not hurt, she decided, and the kids could just grab snacks if they caught the munchies later.

"I'm hungry, too," Jeannie admitted. "Tris, can you grab the sandwich stuff out the fridge and I'll go see if I can find Bobby."

Assuming he hasn't found his way out of a window, she added to herself.

"No problem," Tristy told her.

The girls went their separate ways; Tristy to the two-door refrigerator and Jeannie out the swinging door and up the hall stairs.

On the second floor, Bobby sat by the foot of his bed with his guitar in his lap. He stroked the thin strings every so often, but spent the majority of his time staring at the poster of the Flash that hung on the wall right next to his closet door. He laid his head back against the mattress and gazed up at the ceiling but found it of no interest, either. He glanced over as his door opened, revealing Jeannie.

"Hey," she greeted. "Come on downstairs. We're about to make lunch."

"Don't you knock?" he snapped.

Surprised for a moment, Jeannie raised an eyebrow and said, "Sor-ry." A four second silence passed between them. "Didn't you hear me?"

"Yeah, I heard you," he answered in annoyance. "I'm not hungry."

Clearly noticing something off, Jeannie asked, "Are you upset about Beth?"

"No," he told her matter-of-factly. "I'm not upset about Beth or anything else. Leave me alone."

"Fine." Jeannie felt she had enough to deal with without adding his pre-teen mood swings to her list. She went downstairs and returned to the kitchen, where Tristy had set the sandwich fixings out on the table neatly.

"Where's Bobby?" she asked.

"He's not hungry," Jeannie answered dismissively.

Tristy shrugged and reached for the white bread. After the girls finished making their ideal sandwiches, they sat at the table together to eat them. Jeannie kept checking her updates to see if anyone had heard anything about Beth, but turned up no luck. She absently listened to Tristy humming merrily as she enjoyed her combination of ham and cheddar.

The kitchen door swung open a moment later and Bobby thundered in. Without a word, he grabbed the loaf of bread and jar of Miracle Whip.

Jeannie raised an eyebrow and said, "I thought you weren't hungry."

"Changed my mind," came his simple reply.

Bobby heatedly prepared his lunch and did not catch Jeannie's attention again until the mustard he squirted spilled across the letters G through K on her laptop.

"Oh, Bobby." Jeannie quickly hopped up. "Look what you did. Quick, get some paper towels."

As if he had suddenly gone deaf, Bobby merely grabbed his sandwich then went to the freezer of the refrigerator.

Trying to keep her calm, Jeannie went to the left counter and grabbed a couple paper towels off the vertical roller and made quick work of cleaning her silver computer keys. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bobby get something before closing the freezer. She then watched as he headed out with an ice cream bar in hand.

"Excuse me," Jeannie said, following him out into the living room. "Where do you think you're going with that?"

"To my room if you gotta know," he said without turning around.

Jeannie had to run to block his path. "Oh, no you're not. You know Aunt Sharon doesn't let you guys eat ice cream in your room. She'll F-ing flip."

"On you," Bobby shot back. "You're the one in charge and you shouldn't be because you're only a couple years older than me and I don't need a babysitter, anyway."

Shocked by the normally mild-mannered kid, Jeannie stood still for a minute before going right after him up the stairs, fussing at him the whole way.

Tristy watched them with great interest from where she stood right outside the kitchen, finishing off her sandwich. She started to go upstairs after them but the house phone decided to go off at that moment and the girl opted for picking up the living room extension on the end table near the couch.

Grinning at the Caller ID, Tristy answered the phone with, "Hi, Daddy!"

Adam chuckled on the other end. "Hey, li'l boo. How's my baby girl?"

"I'm okay," Tristy told him. "I really miss you, though. I can't wait for you to come back."

"That makes two of us," Adam assured her. "Are you helping your mama around the house?"

"Yes. Me and Jeannie made lunch."

"Oh, Jeannie's over there? Where's Mama and your brother?"

"Mama left really early today and Bobby's-"

"Get out of my room, Jeannie!"

"Hold it up," Adam said. "Was that your brother?"

"Uh…" Tristy tried to think fast.

"Tristy," came her father's suspicious tone. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Tristy tried to answer.

"Put Jeannie on the phone."

Not knowing what else to do, Tristy turned and carried the phone up the stairs and into Bobby's room.

"What is the matter with you, Bobby?" Jeannie exclaimed.

"Just get out!" Bobby ordered her.

"Jeannie?" Tristy tugged on the older girl's blue jean covered leg.

Jeannie ignored the attempt to get her attention and kept her focus on Bobby. "I'm not going anywhere. You need to calm down."

"You're not the boss of me!" Bobby shouted. "And this is my house. I'll eat wherever I want."

"Jeannie," Tristy urged, holding the phone up.

Jeannie absented took the phone and said a quick, "Hello?" into it. "Oh, Uncle Adam." She looked at Bobby who seemed to freeze up. "Yeah, we're fine here. Well, yeah, that was him, but… okay, here he is." Jeannie held out the portable device. "Your dad wants you."

With a bit of a shaky hand, Bobby took possession of the phone, holding it just slightly away from his ear. "Hey, Dad. How's LA?"

"Uh uh," Adam said, in no mood for beating around the bush. "I know I did not hear you yelling at your cousin like that."

"We were just having a little argument," Bobby tried.

"A little argument?" Adam repeated. "If I can hear you all the way in LA, you can't call that little. You know when we leave one of the older kids in charge, you're supposed to listen to them, right?"

Squirming front foot to foot slightly, Bobby replied, "Yes, sir."

"Now, look," Adam said, wanting the child's full attention. "I called to let your mama know that since Tony's taking off here, we won't be back until Saturday morning."

"You mean you're not coming back on Tuesday?"

Adam softened slightly at his son's disappointment. "I can't, but I will be taking time off as soon as I get back. And while I'm out here, I don't want to hear anymore about you giving anybody backtalk."

"You won't," Bobby promised. "I'm sorry, Dad."

"All right then. Now what had you snapping on Jeannie like that, anyway? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, Dad. I guess it's just…" Bobby thought for a second. "I'm worried about Beth." He saw Jeannie's eyes pop.

"Beth?" Adam sounded confused. "What about Beth?"

Jeannie snatched the phone out of Bobby's hold and said into the mouth piece, "Uncle Adam, it's me again. B and Richie just had a fight. Nothing serious."

"A fight, huh?" her uncle said. "For them that's good. Better than that stone cold silence. Well, all right, Jeannie Beanie, I'll let you go. I need to call your auntie."

"Okay," she said. "Love you." She hung up and stared at Bobby. "Auntie Sharon doesn't want Uncle Adam to know about Beth because she doesn't want him to worry."

"Well, how was I supposed to know?" Bobby countered.

"If you didn't live in your room this whole weekend, maybe we could share that kind of info with you."

Bobby glanced down at his sock covered feet. "I'm sorry I was being a jerk."

Jeannie sighed, deciding the whole thing had been stupid. "Don't worry about it." She gestured towards the ice cream bar he still held. "Just do us both a favor and don't eat that in here."

Bobby brought his head back up with a tiny smile. "Yeah, okay."

*******

Gear rocketed over the south side of the city, not bothering to take notice of the crowds below who gawked and displayed faces of amazement at his recent reappearance. The only thing in possession of his attention in that moment was Backpack, who busily performed an urgent scan with his small built-in satellite. Before long, his electronic alarm went off, alerting his creator.

"Gotcha," Gear said lowly as he made a landing behind a warehouse. He saw the perfect hiding spot, a large pileup of boxes. Giving the stack a firm kick, Gear knocked over most of the containers, and made a discovery. "Minipack." He took possession of the portable silver apparatus, who looked the picture of an abandoned pet. "How could…?"

Just then, Static's voice came over Gear's Bluetooth Shock-Vox. "Gear, come in. It's Static. Are you reading me?"

"I read you," Gear said into the ear device.

"Anything?"

"I've discovered Minipack, but Beth is nowhere in sight. I can't figure this."

"Where are you right now?"  
Gear stepped out to find a street sign. "By 52nd and Harris Street."

"Volt and I are close. Let's regroup."  
The green adorned superhero had no objections as he waited on his comrades. The man and boy arrived within ten minutes and flew down right before Gear.

"Okay, so you found Minipack," Static said. "Meaning little mini girl can't be too far away."

"Minipack's had some damage," Gear told them, looking over the device. "It's not severe, but bad enough to effect the Return Home feature I installed in her."

Volt said, "That's probably why Minipack was out here. Like she got lost on her way home."

"Exactly," Gear concurred then grew all the grimmer. "Now worst yet, Beth could be anywhere."

Static proposed, "Let's make another round then check in with Daisy and Sharon."

Gear did not argue with the new plan as the three of them took to the air again.

*******

"Mr. Foley?" Richie looked up from where he sat on the waiting room couch. Beth stretched out with her head in his lap, asleep. A petite Hispanic nurse had spoken to him. "Your wife's awake."

Letting out a tremendous sigh of relief, Richie uttered, "Thank God." He gently raised his daughter's head, readjusted his coat over her, then got up to follow the nurse into Marissa's private room.

Virgil, Robert, and the rest of the family had protested to stay, most audibly Sharon, but with visiting hours being up they had all been required to leave. Part of Richie had not minded it. Having to save face for so long had sent him over the brink of exhaustion to say the least.

The sight of Marissa with her hair completely sweaty and messed but her eyes wide open could not have been a more beautiful picture for Richie as he sat in the soft chair next to her bed.

"Richie,' she started to speak.

"Shh, darling," he urged gently. "It's all right. I'm here. Everything's going to be okay."

She shook her head in disbelief, her pale features now showing the peak of fear. "Where is our baby?"

"He's okay," Richie told her. "You were unconscious from blood loss. They had to do an emergency C-section. I've been in to check on him. He's doing fine and he'll be fine."

"I want to see him," Marissa said desperately as she made an attempt to get up. "I want to see my baby!"

Richie gently nudged her back down. "Riss, no, you have to calm down. I've flown in the finest neonatologists from Metropolis. Our son is getting the best care money can buy."

Her voice weakening, Marissa pleaded, "I have to see him."

"I promise you will soon," Richie assured her. "But right now, I need you to get some rest. You're not at full strength yet."

"Sweetheart, I don't know what to say," she told him shakily.

"You don't have to say anything. I love you so much."

"I love you, too."

Richie kissed her forehead and said, "Get some rest." He held her hand until she nodded off from the medication the nurse had brought in.

After staying with her for another ten minutes, Richie got up and found his way back to the infant care wing. He went up to the incubator that held the two pounds, four ounces "Foley Baby Boy". He watched the tiny, pink skinned newborn wiggle his legs every so often as he laid on his back, despite the numerous tubes and wires that restrained him. Richie reached in through one of the circular hand openings to gently touch the flesh so thin of the tiny being.

"Hey, Patrick," he said. "It's Dad again. I've got some good news for you. Mommy just woke up and she can't wait to see you. In fact, I'm pretty sure wild horses won't be able to keep her away for long." A beat of silence passed between the two before Richie talked again. "All right, Little V, here comes the first of many of these little father-son talks you're going to have to suffer through. I need you to fight this. When I wake up tomorrow I need you to still be here. So you got to see the world a little earlier than expected, that doesn't matter. I swear to you, son, if you can just pull through this, I will protect you from everything from the boogie man to the real bad guys." He lowered his voice as he said, "Your dad's a superhero. Did you know that? Well, I'll just bet you're one, too."

At that, the baby's dot sized pinky finger went up towards the top of the incubator. Richie placed his free hand over the plastic cover, allowing the pair to make a silent agreement.

*******

Sharon returned home at eight that evening. She loaded her two kids together and gave Jeannie a ride back to her house, having refused to allow her niece to bike all the way back home after the recent happenings. Jeannie wheeled her bike into the garage then came into the house through the kitchen way. She was surprised to find her father, brother, Richie, all out of uniform, Robert, and her mother sitting around together.

"What's everybody doing here?" Jeannie asked.

"Regroup," Raheem answered her. "Fun day, by the way."

"Also, my parents are still at my house and I don't feel like yet another meeting of the minds with my father." Richie gave Robert a snide look with that.

"You can eyeball me all you want, but I wouldn't have had to call them if you'd bothered to, Richie," Robert said to him matter-of-factly. "They had the right to know."

Knowing an argument with Robert Hawkins usually left him feeling fifteen again, Richie said simply, "Fine," then thought for a moment. "So, last night, was like sixty two, maybe sixty three degrees out, right?"

"I think so," Daisy said. "It was a little chilly out when I left the café."

"Hmm," Richie hummed. "That's pretty nippy to have a window open." He turned his full attention to Jeannie. "Especially having one up as high as you did last night."

Jeannie turned away, heading for the refrigerator. "My room was stuffy."

"Or," Richie stood and headed in the girl's direction to corner her, "there's more to the truth than you're willing to let on."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Jeannie said, her attention never leaving the contents of the ice box, even though she had her eyes on nothing in particular.

Richie would not relent. "You expect me to believe that after yesterday morning's fiasco, that Beth did not so much as call her best friend? Who conveniently only lives a few houses up the street?"

"Hold on, Rich," Virgil said, not approving of his daughter being called out as a liar. "Ease off a minute."

Raheem chimed in with, "Big Rich has a point. Come on, Dad, Jeannie and the Bubble Blonde have been joined at the hip since we were in strollers."

Daisy decided to speak at this point. "You were being awfully dodgy last night, Jeannie."

"Why are you always grilling me, Ma?" Jeannie demanded in frustration.

Giving her daughter a sharp look, Daisy folded her arms and said, "Maybe because number one, I'm your mother and it's my right and number two, I know when something is wrong with you."

Jeannie sought assistance in her other parent. "Dad?"

Virgil drummed his fingers on the back of his chair for a moment. "Come here, baby girl." She obediently went to stand at his side but shrunk a little under the gaze he gave her next. "Did you or did you not see or talk to Beth at any time yesterday? Tell me the truth."

"For once today," Raheem tacked on.

"Raheem Richard," Robert admonished, "no one was talking to you and this situation does not need your running commentary."

Raheem felt himself shrink down from his proud six foot height. "Sorry." Even with Jeannie on the spot Pops still managed to call him out.

"Could you answer him, please?" Richie pressed.

Jeannie whipped her head around to turn a glare on him. "You know if you really cared about your child, I don't think you'd need me to track her for you."

Virgil took his daughter by the wrist and veered her around. "Whoa, you better take about ten steps back with that attitude, Miss Thang. You do not talk to Richie like that and I didn't appreciate that little tiff with your mother, either. When an adult in this family asks you a question, you better answer with some respect."

Feeling her brother's earlier decline in height, although she only stood at five foot five already, Jeannie responded with, "I'm sorry." She closed her eyes for a moment before speaking again. "Beth came over at like twelve thirty yesterday afternoon. She and Richie were fighting and she was upset."

"Jeannie, why didn't you talk to me about this when I got home last night?" Daisy asked.

"I don't know, Ma," Jeannie answered honestly. "B really didn't want a crowd and she was so freaked out. Richie said he would send her away."

The aforementioned man chimed in on that. "I didn't mean that. It was a bad situation and I said and… did some things out of anger."

"And it sent your daughter right out the door," Robert surmised. "Richie, one thing you cannot do is handle these kids with a hot head."

"I know," the blonde man admitted. "Beth must have made a break out that window last night. That's probably how Minipack got damaged and Beth most likely separated from her when she realized I could use Backpack to seek out Minipack."

"Richie, you might not want to face this, but it's overdue time for you to bring in the police," Robert told him.

"Better yet," Richie said thoughtfully, giving his chin a stroke. "I have an entirely different organization in mind. One that I actually have faith in."

*******

With the camera's flash, Richie successfully captured his two children on film. Beth would not stop smiling even as the flash faded. She held her newborn brother in her arms, who had opened his eyes on the second day of his life. At last, by the fifth day, he had been discharged. Beth sat next to her mother on the hospital bed as Richie got all three cell phones to take more pictures.

"Hello, handsome," Marissa cooed as she finished with her suitcase. She ran a hand over Patrick's soft head. "Oh, look at all this light hair. I know he's going to be a blonde. Is it too much to ask for one of them to look like me?"

"Hey, you know how strong these Foley genes are," Richie reminded her with a smirk. "And besides, this way I at least know they're mine."

"Unfortunately," Marissa added with a playful grin.

Beth felt the need to defend her mother and said, "At least we have Mom's eyes. The kind that can see straight."

"Ohh," Richie said. "I guess Groundhog Day came early this year. No matter. I'm pretty sure I have the receipt for those ice skates…"

"Nooooo," Beth moaned, holding her brother up for emphasis. "Look, Pat says I was just kidding, Daddy. Isn't that right, Pat?"

"No influencing your little brother," said Richie.

"Bethie and Daddy are in a league all their own, Patrick," Marissa said as she gently took her son from her daughter and rocked him a bit. "I think we'll have to be the sane ones."

After their main doctor and nurse came by with the last round of paperwork, the family of four found themselves at last free to go. They took the elevator down to the parking lot and piled into the car with the parents up front and Beth and Patrick in the backseats. Even though her brother had drifted off to sleep already, Beth shook his rattle lightly over him as they drove along. Marissa looked back at the two of them every so often, the smile never leaving her face.

When they arrived back the house, Marissa got Patrick settled in the bassinet in the Super Mario Bros. themed nursery, which had needed to be finished in haste. Marissa managed to pull herself away from her baby's side long enough to go downstairs and prepare lunch for the rest of the family. She came back up an hour later with a towel draped over her shoulder to prepare Patrick for his feeding. She reached into the bassinet, but before she even picked him up she felt it.

Even though the blanket that wrapped the child, she could feel the slight chill. She placed a trembling hand on Patrick's paling cheek and did not sense a thing; absolute emptiness. In the time it took to finish a meal, her son had been taken from her.

"No…" she spoke slowly them let out a siren like scream as she collapsed to the floor and began to shake.

Richie wasted no time bounding up the stairs. When he came into the room, he quickly went to his wife's aid, almost afraid to touch her in her current state. Slowly but surely, he glanced up until he was looking in on his baby. All at once, he felt what came off as glass shattering throughout his ears. As his shoulders vibrated with instantaneous rage, he turned, lifted the large crib in the corner of his eye right up, and smashed it down onto the brown carpeting, producing a multitude of broken wooden pieces.

Beth watched it all from the hallway and could say nothing as she bent over and promptly threw up.

*******

Jeannie sat between Virgil and Daisy on the living room couch. Raheem had gone upstairs and Robert and Richie had finally left for the evening.

"I still don't see why you thought you couldn't come to me," Daisy said.

"I don't know, either," Jeannie said admittingly. "I thought I could just hold things off. I never would have guessed that B would just climb back out the window like that."

"I still don't like the way you lied to your mother," said Virgil firmly. "Now, I know about the best friends code, me and Rich invented that, but this was too serious for you to not tell us about, Jean."

Jeannie stared down at her lap. "I understand if you're mad."

Daisy explained, "It's not about how upset we are. It's about us being able to trust you. We always, always have to be able to trust you, baby."

"And another thing," Virgil tacked on. "I say this to your brother and I'm saying it to you. You are not too old. You're not too old for my hand and you're not old enough to play adult. We know what's best and we expect you to remember that. Understand?"

"Yes, Daddy," Jeannie replied meekly.

"Good," Virgil nodded. "Now you go upstairs to bed. There's a lot on our plates but don't think this discussion is completely closed."

Jeannie nodded in return. She looked back and forth between her parents before standing and headed for the stairs. Virgil landed a firm pat to her moving backside as she did so, only causing her to go a little faster.

Daisy scooted over closer to her husband, who wrapped his arm around her. Something seemed to whisper to them both that things would get harder before better.

*******

Richie took his time walking down the street to his mansion that night. Even though he knew his parents were gone because his mother had left a voicemail message letting him know she had left dinner in the oven before they left, he was still in no hurry to return to the empty house. He had placed the call he spoke of earlier at the Hawkins House and knew he could only wait and continue to search. That was the worst part, besides not having so much as an inkling of his daughter's whereabouts. He would be up another night in terror. After his years long superhero career, this was the closest his "super brain" had gotten him.

When he walked in through the front of the mansion, he gasped when he noticed a light coming from the second floor. He quickly ran up the right staircase and upon closer surveillance saw that the glow came from Beth's bedroom.

"Beth," he said out loud and rushed into the room at full speed. However, upon entrance, he found an entirely different pair of brown eyes facing him. They belonged to the last person he had expected to discover. "Marissa…"


	4. Part 4: Interventions

A/N: Update speed will be based on feedback from this point on.

Self-Destruction Part 4: Interventions

Five foot eight, a little thinner, her golden brown hair a bit darker and longer, but there she stood before him. Richie's gaze refused to leave the clearly tense woman, who's only movement was that of swallowing. Somehow her feet managed to work as she took steps to close the four feet or so of space between them. Richie remained still as she reached a hand out towards his cheek. She paused to see if he would knock it away, but when no such action occurred, Marissa made contact with the side of his face.

Richie breathed heavily as the familiar tingle of her touch shot throughout him, eliciting feelings he had not experienced in all too long. He turned into her hand slightly and found himself applying a tender, feather light kiss to two of the fingers.

"I'm so happy to see you, darling."

At her words, all of Richie's senses returned at once, causing him to step back and set her with a glower. "What the hell do you think you're doing here?"

"I missed you," she told him sincerely, "so much. Every night I…"

"What?" he suddenly snapped. "Every night you took five seconds to think about the husband and daughter you deserted? Yet never one second to pick up the damn phone?"

She appeared momentarily fazed but still said, "None of that matters. I'm here now."

"After seven months." Richie shook his head with disappointment. "Seven months, Marissa. Do you understand how long I looked for you? You left completely out of the blue and there were nights where I had to wonder if you were even alive. Do you know what that did to me?"

"I will never stand here and claim that what I did was right," she said with full on admittance. "And I know it's going to take time, but I know now that I'm willing to put in the time."

Scoffing, Richie held a dismissive hand up to her face and marched over towards one of the large windows.

"Richie," she called to him meekly. "Richie, where is Beth?" Growing fearful when she received no response, she tried again with greater demand. "Where is she?"

"I don't know," he finally answered then turned around with his hand pressed against the windowpane. "Apparently, she takes more after you than I thought because she has been missing since yesterday and I can't find her."

"What?" Marissa exclaimed. "What do you mean she's missing? You can't find her? Richie, how could you let this happen?"

"Me?" he spat, coming purposefully closer into her personal space. "You cowardly, backstabbing wench, don't you dare come back here after seven fucking months and accuse me of anything." He gripped her by the shoulders fiercely. "Do you hear me? Not a damn thing!"

Marissa released an intake of air as she raised her head up to really face him. For the first full time she saw how deep the anger went. She also caught the grief that, too, spoke volumes.

The two stayed in that position for several seconds until Richie realized just how close their faces came to making contact. He immediately let go of his hold on her arms before whatever unexpected desires he kept within took possession of him.

"This is too much," Richie said, not to Marissa yet out loud. "It's all too much. It can't be real."

Marissa hitched a mouthful of air at the sorrowful memory of the last time she had heard those words from him. "Richie, we have to find her."

Amazing himself, Richie felt some of his tension fade slightly. "I am willing to put this on hold, but only for Beth's sake." He eyed her, his face now free of any emotional signals. "Until she is found, you can sleep in one of the guest rooms."

With a slow nod, Marissa watched on as he started to walk out. "Richie, can I just say how so-"

Whirling around again, he held his hand out to stop her. "Don't. Just don't." That firmly spoken, he made his way out of the room.

Marissa hugged herself as she went over and took a seat on her daughter's bed. She pulled open the drawer of the night table and found two diary books inside. Underneath, she saw something else. She gently took the photograph between her index finger and thumb, as if it would explode into dust if she handled it the wrong way. Pictured were her children; both of them.

*******

Finding himself in front of the condemned Ferris Row Projects, Gear recalled for a moment a particular time he had been there; against his will. He had taken off from home himself as a teen after a heated dispute due to his father's former bigoted mindset. Virgil/Static found him before anyone else and managed to convince him to return to his house. However, on the way, Richie had been nabbed by one of their then many meta human enemies. Of course, there had been no such thing as a meta human for years, besides Dakota's superheroes, but a lead was a lead.

Now, though, Gear was one of the many superheroes. One who demanded an explanation. With a swift kick, he knocked down the already dilapidated door and made his entrance. Inside, he found a dozen or so young people, ranging anywhere from sixteen to twenty years old. They all stopped talking and any little movement at the unexpected appearance of the green clad hero.

"Ferris Row," Gear remarked, looking around the lobby he stood in, illuminated only by candles and battery powered lights. "This place has… changed none whatsoever."

"Hey, what's your business here, man?" one of the young men asked, stepping up. "You ain't got nothing on us."

"Except demerits for grammar," Gear commented then spoke to the electronic device currently strapped to his back. "Backpack, display Bethany: full body image."

Backpack started up then used his extending eye to form a full-sized holographic illustration of Beth.

Gear turned back to the group in front of him and asked straightforwardly, "Have any of you seen this girl?"

"Damn!" one of them exclaimed. "She is fine."

"You know," said the first one who had come upon Gear, "now that you mention it, I'm pretty sure I was with her last night."

The moment he finished the sentence, the boy found himself with his back shoved against the side wall with Gear's forearm pressed against his throat.

"You little son of a bitch," Gear hissed at him.

At the sound of rushed footsteps behind him, Gear gripped the younger male by the front of his shirt and quickly threw him into the members of his crew who had come up to assist him. He succeeded in bowling all five of them to the floor.

"Stop it," one of the girls insisted. "Look, Gear, I swear we haven't seen her."

Glancing the young pack up and down, Gear finally decided none of them were worth anymore of his time. He walked by the ones he had knocked over and started for the entrance he had created earlier.

However, he managed to turn around in time to brace himself as the one he had pushed against the wall now tackled him. Gear easily kicked him in the lower abdomen, sending the zealous youth flying right off him. Quickly getting to his feet once more, Gear saw that a few more wanted to have a go at him. As all of the males charged at him, Gear made rapid yet ferocious work of delivering blows and tosses to each of them.

At one point, one of the boys took hold of Gear from behind and flung the hero with a bang towards the far left wall. Gear's upper arm took most of the impact but he sucked it in as he mad dashed at his offender, sending him onto his behind. Next, Gear took hold of a pair of his ever trusted zap caps and used them to trap a couple of them in metallic ropes. He then activated Backpack and retrieved his laser pin and fired at one of his attackers without missing a beat.

When he dropped down, Gear said to the on-lookers, "He's only stunned. Call it my generosity. Now…" He held the pen out menacingly. "Who's next?"

The group seemed to step back at once, allowing Gear to at last take his leave.

Blasting off into the air the moment he made it back outside, Gear went on with his search. He noticed the lightening sky to the east and decided that it had to be pushing at least five AM. Discarding the hour altogether, Gear flew onward into the city that currently played the part of an enormous haystack.

Marissa jarred awake, compliments of the excited birds outside. She quickly sat up and did a rapid scan of her surroundings. The brunette realized she had fallen asleep in her daughter's room fully dressed, shoes and all. She took a moment to check her phone for the time; six thirty. Slipping off her green blazer, Marissa deposited it on the bed and started out of the room, deciding that Richie would be making an early start to find their shared child, whether he wanted to or not.

Upon entering the grand bedroom she once called hers, Marissa proved to be the one to get the wide eyed wake-up call as Gear flew in through one of the bay windows. He wobbly took a seat on the edge of the bed and let go a worn sigh as he removed his visor.

"Richie?" Marissa came into the room closer. "Have you been out all night?"

He turned away from her and said, "I couldn't exactly sleep."

"The sun is up," the woman pointed out. "Someone could have seen you as Gear."

Richie got to his feet and threw down his visor. "I could care less about this super secret identity thing about now."

Marissa flinched then watched Richie take hold of his right shoulder. "What happened?"

"Just a scuffle with some punks I was questioning," Richie explained glibly. "One of them came up behind me. I-- just forget it."

"Look at you." Marissa moved her head in amazed disbelief as she came closer to him. "You're completely exhausted."

He yanked his arm back when she reached out for it, but quickly regretted it as the pain shot throughout his shoulder again.

Richie groaned, but this time Marissa grabbed his aching joint before he could.

"Please, Richie," she urged. "Just rest for a minute. You're no good to Beth in this state."

"No." Richie kept shaking his head, as if trying to free something currently trapped inside it. "I just-" He stumbled forward but Marissa managed to steady him a bit.

The two locked eyes and the only sound heard in the room consisted of Richie's deep breathing. The pants grew heavier as he continued to look upon the woman who had involuntarily invaded his dreams night after night.

"Richie," Marissa finally spoke, getting to say what she had wanted the previous night, "I am so sorry. Hate me if you must, but please just talk to me. Please, Richie."

Of all the questions that lined up in Richie's mind in that moment, the first thing he asked was, "Where were you?"

"Ground Zero."

Frowning slightly, Richie repeated, "Ground Zero?"

"Illinois," she went on. "I read about the work being done in Aurora to save infants. When I left Dakota, I found myself there and I've been attending Life rallies and campaigns ever since."

Narrowing his eyes in anger, Richie responded accusingly, "You left your family to stick your nose in politics?"

"Don't say it like that," Marissa demanded in a tone that surprised them both. "My baby had just died in his bed, my husband became buried in his work, and my daughter was lost in an entirely different world. The funny thing is that I had no choice in any of that and if I had, Patrick would be in my arms right now and Beth would not be out there with God only knows who. But there are women, thousands a day, who make the choice to kill their own children before they're even allowed their first breaths."

"It's not our place." Richie looked away from her, though evidence on his face rang out that her words managed to cut at him.

"How can you possibly say that, Gear?" She spoke his alternate name with thick disdain. "You and Virgil and Adam, all of you damn superheroes! You're so concerned with those already here that you think nothing of the generations that have been lost in the womb." When he continued to hold his gaze elsewhere, she went on. "You can stand here and say that I royally screwed up as a mother and wife, but if you even think to look down on me for what I did while I was away then you are no hero and you never were."  
Finally turning back to face her, Richie unexpectedly concurred, "Maybe you're right."

Her eyes widened, obviously not expecting such a response from him.

She spoke a single word in reply, "Darling…"

"Leave me," Richie requested strongly but silently as he stood from their hold. "Please."

Marissa slowly backed out towards the large door, but turned back for a moment before actually walking out. "I'll leave you alone for now, Richie, but I won't be leaving your life, not again."

He came back with, "And you just expect me to believe that? Further, you expect me to care at this point?"

When he said the last part, Marissa found herself without a voice. As she went out into the hall, she touched the middle of her chest, as if to repair the area Richie's words had damaged.

Please give me back my family, she prayed inwardly, no matter what it takes.

*******

"Tyler?"

"Here," the freckle faced student answered.

"Natalie?" came the next name.

"Here," said the girl.

"Beth?" When no reply came, Ms. Henderson looked around the room but did not see the girl in question "No Beth today."

Jeannie glanced at the empty seat to her left for the fourth time since homeroom had begun. It felt so strange not having Beth beside her. Despite all of her ditched classes, the tall blonde had always come to homeroom, even if just for the purpose of texting.

More than school, though, Jeannie never would have imagined not having Beth around for the second day in a row. She thought the girl would have gotten upset with Richie, gone to one of their other friends to cool off, then come home. However, no such action had taken place. It all left Jeannie to wonder. What if something had happened to Beth on Saturday night after she climbed out the window? With her natural beauty and less than conservative choice of clothing most of the time, any guy could have easily--

"Jean?" Ms. Henderson partitioned loudly.

Thrown from her thoughts, Jeannie answered briskly, "Here!"

Ms. Henderson had obviously called her name more than once, but she had gotten so lost in her speculations that a sparkly purple elephant could have strutted through the room and Jeannie would have been the last to notice.

When the bell rang, Jeannie packed up her laptop and headed out with the others, but heard their teacher beckon her.

"Jeannie, do you have a moment?" The aforementioned teen turned back around and approached Ms. Henderson's desk. "I hate to have to ask you, but I know you and Beth are such good friends. As you noticed, she wasn't in today and it's become a habit in quite a few of her other classes. Do you know if everything's all right?"

"Oh, of course," Jeannie said with the utmost assurance. "Beth just hasn't been feeling good at all. She was really sick last night, but I'm sure she'll be okay in a day or so."

Ms. Henderson seemed please. "Well, I'm sorry she's sick, but it's good to hear that everything is all right. Perhaps you could collect her homework for her?"

"Right," Jeannie agreed.

As she finally left the room, she realized how good at lying she was becoming, but she did not take it as a good talent.

*******

Daisy glanced up from her diet cola at the presence of her sister-in-law coming in through the kitchen way.

"Hey, girl," Sharon greeted.

"Hi, Shar," Daisy returned. "This might be the first time I said hello to anybody without having the phone against my ear. I've had an on-going hotline, trying to see if anybody's heard word about Beth. I'm surprised I even got a chance to sit down for lunch."

"I hear you," Sharon concurred. "I had to take off from the school early to do another drive through. Mind if I join you?"

Daisy held out her hand in a cordial motion. "Please do. I hate sitting around here by myself, but I told Virgil to go into the center and I could just put someone in charge of opening the café today."

Sharon went to the refrigerator and pulled out the bag of salad fixings. "This is too crazy. I can't believe this is happening to one of our kids."

Daisy let out an exhausted sigh and said, "Tell me about it. I must've reminded Raheem to drive he and his sister straight home from school five times this morning."

"And I'll be standing right outside the doors when my two get out today," Sharon said. "Best believe."

At that moment, the back door opened again and Sharon dropped the salad ingredients she held, fortunately, onto the counter.

Daisy saw her shocked expression and asked, "What?" as she looked to her door and saw Marissa standing there.

"Hi," the woman acknowledged them both with forced cheer. "It's good to see you guys."

As usual, Sharon was the first to speak. "Where? In? The? Hell… did you come from?"

"Illinois," she replied meekly. "I guess neither of you have talked to Richie yet."

"Richie knows you're here?" Daisy sounded completely taken aback.

Marissa explained, "I got back last night. I just have to know, have either of you heard anything about Bethie?"

"We've heard an awful lot about her these past few months," Sharon said matter-of-factly. "A lot more than her own mother has. Woman, what do you think you're doing just sneaking back here like this?"

"Sharon, please," Marissa said pleadingly. "I'm not here to fight. I'm already at odds with Richie."

"And who's fault is that?" Sharon said without an ounce of sympathy.

Daisy stood, deciding to intervene at this point. "What Sharon means is that you caught us completely off-guard here. Probably more-so with Richie."

"I know," Marissa responded, "and I promise to deliver a real explanation soon, but right now all I care about is my daughter. Please, help me."

Sharon felt herself soften at that. "Right. Just don't be expecting us to welcome you back into the Mommy Club any time soon."

"And Richie placed some kind of call last night," Daisy added. "It might be a lead."

Marissa ran a frustrated hand through her hair. "I just feel like this is all my fault. But I guess it wouldn't be the first time."

"Marissa," Daisy was careful with her words, "are you all right? I don't mean with just everything now, but with what happened before you even left."

"Honestly?" Marissa folded her arms and appeared thoughtful. "I don't think it's possible for me to ever be all right there. It just feels like someone else's life."

Sharon came over and unexpectedly placed a hand on Marissa's shoulder. "I can tell you right now that I'm familiar with that one."

Without having to think about it, Daisy knew Sharon was referring to her mother, who had been lost when Virgil and Sharon were only children. Not having anything to say or necessarily knowing what to say exactly, Daisy let the pensive silence spread across her kitchen as all three women stood lost in their own individual reflections.

*******

Sean walked down the second floor hallway of the fortress his son called a house. He found every door closed except for one in particular, not too far off from the master bedroom. The robust man entered through the ajar door and found none other than Richie pushed up against a corner by the window, just below the Mario and Yoshi that covered that area of the wall.

The only thing that remained about the nursery from what Sean remembered were the walls and the lonely off to itself rocking chair. After what happened, Richie had destroyed the crib with his own hands and had also dismantled every other piece of furniture. The rocking chair was lucky to have survived the whole ordeal. Of course, Sean got the feeling that if it had been up to Richie, the entire room would have been burnt to the ground if it were not connected to the rest of the mansion.

"Richie?" The only response he received from the younger man was a slow glance up. "Your mother talked to Virgil's sister. Is it true? Is Marissa back?"

Richie chose a question over an answer. "Where's Mom?"

"Downstairs," Sean said. "She sent me to look for you." He walked over closer to him. "You and Marissa are working this situation out, right?"

"No," came the simple sullen reply.

"No?" Sean echoed. He went to stand over his son and said, "She's your wife, Richie. You have a child together. You have to work this out."

"I don't think that's possible."

With a frown, Sean squatted so as to be at eye level with the man who shared his gene pool. "What's happening to you, Richie?" he asked straightforwardly. "Look at you. You're a mess. You think I didn't see that bar downstairs? What's left of it, anyway. When was the last time you had a decent night's rest?"

Richie hugged his knees tighter as he said distantly, "Every time I close my eyes, I hear his screams."

Sean turned confused. "What?"

"I keep hearing his screams and I jump up and fly in here before I even realize what's happening." His voice began to break as he went on. "That's all he had to do was scream or cry and I would have ran to him. I wouldn't have let him die. But he didn't call me or cry out to me. I told him I would protect him from everything."

Knowing precisely who he meant, Sean sighed and said, "There was nothing you could do, Richie. The boy was just too sick."

"I lost my son then my wife," Richie recounted. "And I just feel like I'm going to start hearing my daughter's screams very soon."

At that, Sean commanded, "Stop it, Richard. Stop it right now. We lost Patrick and there's nothing any of us can do to change that. But Marissa is back and she had to have come back for a reason. As for Beth, we will bring her home. This is… it's one of those times you have to have faith, son."

"You talk as if God has any concern for me," Richie said, deciding to face the other direction.

"I thought the same thing at one point," Sean told him. "Your mother and me? We were exactly where you and Marissa are now, but we wouldn't let anything split us up. You and I almost came undone when you were Beth's age. I know you remember that."

Richie spoke without any sign of cheer or satisfaction in his voice. "I guess I really am my father's son."

"No," Sean said with a shake of his head. "Look at everything you've done with your life. You built your own company brick by brick. You and Marissa found yourselves in a sticky situation in college, but you didn't take the easy way out. You got married, had Beth, and stuck it out this long. If you come undone at this point, you won't be able to blame God or this life or anything else. It'll all fall on you."

Richie smiled ironically. "Would you believe that for a split second Marissa and I considered "taking the easy way out" when we got pregnant with Beth? I know we didn't do it and probably wouldn't have when it came down to it, but for just a second we thought about getting rid of our own baby. What kind of man thinks like that, Dad? Maybe it's because of that one second that I lost Patrick. It's why I'm losing everything. And I really don't think I'm strong enough to keep fighting."

Sean got to his feet again, but took a fistful of Richie's shirt and pulled him up along with. "You listen to me right now, Richard Osgood Foley. As many times as you've saved this city from collapsing, now is when you want to throw in the towel? With your own life? Let me tell you right now that I'll be dead before I let you do it."

"I am not a little boy anymore," Richie insisted, grabbing hold of his father's arms. "You have no control over what I do."

Sean actually chuckled at hearing that. "You think I'm thrown by how old you are? Your money? Your power? You may be a success, son, but in my sight you're still that six-year-old who threw a fit when he found out he needed glasses." He looked the picture of firm before he went on with the rest. "If my words aren't getting through then I can take a shot at a whole other end of your body if that's what it takes."

Feeling his eyes widened, Richie said plainly, "You wouldn't dare."

Taking the liberty of shoving his only child face forward against the wall, Sean planted four hard swats against Richie's behind.

It surprised Richie himself when the quartet of blows produced an audible groan out of him. "Okay, you made your point."

"Oh, yeah? Let's just make sure." With that, Sean delivered another four blows before he loosened his grip. "Get it together, Richard. I hear you crying out now and I'm running for you."

Allowing a moment to let the situation sink in, Richie turned around to face his father and even more surprise followed when Sean pulled him into a bear hug. Such a display was as rare as a Big Foot sighting when it came to one Sean Foley. Richie did not fight it, though. In fact, he could honestly feel the strength he needed returning in that instance.

"Could you tell Mom I'll be down in a second?"

Sean nodded as they pulled back. "Sure." He started out.

"Dad?" The older man turned back at his son's summon. "Thank you."

"You're my son," Sean said simply. "There's no need."

When his father walked out, Richie lowered down and reached for his cell phone. He chose one of his contacts and waited for the response.

"Hello?" came his secretary's voice.

"Vivian, hi," Richie greeted. "Listen, there's an organization called the Life League in Aurora, Illinois. I'd like you to donate five hundred thousand dollars to them. Make sure it's done within the hour. Good, thanks."

*******

Jeannie nearly fell off the bed at her cell phone alarm going off. How could it be seven AM already? She opened her eyes enough to see that the sky outside was still dark, meaning it could not have been time to get ready for school. Had she set her alarm wrong? It had happened before. Jeannie glanced at the caller ID on her phone and saw some unrecognizable row of digits. Wrong numbers just had to wait until someone fell asleep.

"Hello?" she answered nonetheless.

"Hello to the Cutie, this is--"

"Beauty?" Jeannie shot up in bed, completely awake now then lowered her voice into a sharp whisper. "Beth?"

"Yeah, it's me, J."

"Oh, my God. Where are you?" Jeannie wanted to know.

"I'm on Argyle and 25th," Beth told her. "I know it's late, but can you please come out here?"

Already up and looking for a pair of pants to throw over her pajama bottoms, Jeannie said into the phone, "I'm on my way. Don't worry and don't move."

Jeannie pulled on a pair of socks and the sneakers she had worn to school earlier that day. She placed her cell phone in its holder and clipped it to her belt. After which she hurried downstairs as quickly yet silently as she could, barely remembering to grab her jacket off the arm chair as she went right out the front door.

Getting on her bike, Jeannie pedaled rapidly to Argyle and 25th. It took her ten minutes to make it all the way. As soon as she got to the adjoining streets, she saw a thin silhouette waving her over and knew who it had to be.

"Beth!" she exclaimed as the two embraced. "I don't believe it. I am so glad you're okay."

"Yeah, I'm fine," Beth assured.

"Where on earth have you been all this time?" Jeannie demanded, anger clearly taking hold now that she knew her lifelong friend was safe. "We have been worried sick."

"I ran to my house for some clothes Saturday night," the older girl explained. "I've been staying at a motel near here ever since."

"You've been at some motel?" Jeannie surmised. "How did you manage to pull that off?"

"With cash up front and bribing the manager not to call my dad," Beth explained as if that was such a normal day-to-day activity. "Oh, and let me guess. D-A-D sent a handful of his employees to find me, right?"

"No," Jeannie said matter-of-factly. "Gear, Static, and everybody else have torn this city apart trying to find you. Beth, your mom is back."

So taken aback, Beth actually had to take a breath. "What?" she whispered.

"Yes, she's back," Jeannie confirmed. "And now she's worried about you, too."

With a shrug, Beth said, "Really? Well, at least she knows what it feels like now."

"You can tell her that yourself. Come on. Let's head back."

"No," Beth denied. "I'm not ready to go back yet, J."

"Beth, you really are completely insane. You can't just stay gone because you're pissed at your parents. It's not just them you're hurting. My mom and Aunt Sharon took off work to help find you. Everybody's been working around the clock, all for you." Jeannie stared at her closely. "Do you get that? Come on. We have to go back."

"She's right you know."

Both girls appeared startled at the new voice. A sudden gust of wind blew through and the pair spun around to find themselves joined by the Flash, wearing his usual made-for-Hollywood grin.

"Flash?" Jeannie and Beth acknowledged in unison.

"Flash in the flesh," he confirmed, taking a small bow. "Evening, ladies. Wow, it's been forever since I've seen you. You two totally grew up overnight."

"I don't believe it," Jeannie said, going over to give the red and yellow clad superhero a tight hug, which he kindly returned.

Beth asked, "What are you doing here?"

"A certain billionaire by the name of Richie Foley sent up a distress call," Flash enlightened. "I managed to find some time in my tight schedule to answer."

Hearing the second piece of unbelievable news for the night, Beth immediately got that old hit with a feather sensation. "My father called the Justice League," she felt the need to repeat the group's name, "the Justice League about this?"

Flash nodded. "Yes, he did, babe. Lucky for you," he glanced around their surroundings, as he did all things, quickly, "it looks like I beat him here."

"Someone else from the League is here?" Beth sounded completely staggered while her best friend on the other hand started beaming.

"Oh, my God. Is Superman here?" Jeannie wanted to know.

"Unfortunately, he's out on assignment," Flash told her then became amused at the slight pout the girl formed at his answer. "But you were warm."

Beth started to speak, but before she could she felt something enfold her ankles tightly, which in turn caused her to fall right over with an, "Oof!"

Jeannie lowered down to the other girl's aid. "Beth? What the…?" She started to touch the black rope that currently had Beth in a tangle but gasped and scooted back as someone else leapt down upon the scene.

The tall, burly figure stepped out of the shadows, revealing Batman, who stated, "Ms. Foley, your father requests your presence."

*******

It had fallen on the Flash to report back to Richie, Gear actually since the man was out on patrol, about the new development, as Batman had his focus on the blonde teenager currently in his captive. When no response came in from Gear, Flash instead tried the other famous Dakota hero.

"Static here," he said over his ear piece.

"Hey, Electrolyte," Flash replied. "It's your old buddy Flash. Bats and I picked up on Gear's smoke signal. Guess who we found."

"Beth," Static realized. "I don't believe it. Oh, wow. Gear must be out of range checking out the train station, but don't worry. He's not too far. Is she okay?"

"She's fine," Flash assured then grew silent for a moment before he tacked on, "and Jeannie's good, too."

Static's initial response to hearing that his daughter, too, was out at two AM was, "Say what?"

*******

Marissa heard indiscrete talking coming from one area of her home as she exited the kitchen with her third cup of coffee for the hour. With Gear out searching the city, sleep had been the last idea on her mind as she spent the evening in pure worry in the mansion alone. She heard the conversation coming from the second floor and after bounding the stairs, the woman took in a sharp breath at the sight of the Flash, Jeannie, Batman, and Beth lined up before her.

"Marissa, hey," Flash greeted with a small wave. "It's been a while. You know, you guys really should lock up your balcony at night. Just a tip."

"Oh, my…" Marissa dropped her mug to the floor, the thick carpeting keeping it from breaking but not spilling it's hot contents. She hurried up to the group of four and pulled her daughter into a tight hold. "Beth, my God. I was so worried. Are you hurt? Are you all right?"

Beth remained stiff in Marissa's grip with arms folded. "I am fine." She stepped back and said accusingly, "I was only gone a couple days. Some of us don't need seven months to cool off."

Marissa felt herself tighten up and merely nodded, knowing she had to give the girl some space. "I can't thank you enough for bringing them both back safely," she said, now to the costumed men.

"Our pleasure," Flash said suavely. He placed a hand on Jeannie's shoulder, causing the short girl to look up at him. "Can't let anything happen to the cuties of the world. It's in the Justice League oath."

Batman said to Marissa, "If you don't mind, I'd like to stay and wait for Gear."

"Of course," she agreed, gesturing towards the stairs. "Just feel free to sit in the living room."

Batman headed down wordlessly while Flash shrugged and decided to zip along after the older hero. Jeannie put a comforting arm around Beth as they went behind them, allowing Marissa to bring up the rear. The gathering of five did not have long to wait, as Virgil and Richie, having rushed changed into their street clothes, came bursting in through the French doors a minute later.

"Jean?" Virgil called.

She shot up from where she sat next to Beth on the couch and answered, "I'm right here, Dad. I'm okay."

Virgil pulled her into a tight hug. "Thank God."

"I'm really sorry," she apologized into his shirt.

"Later," Virgil said simply.

Richie came in next and looked right by everyone in the room to lay his eyes on Beth, who sat in stone silence. "Are you all right?" he asked her plainly.

Without looking up, Beth let off a nod.

"She's fortunate to be all right," Batman chimed up from where he stood over by one of the large draped windows behind the couch. "They both are."

"Say that again," Virgil concurred, giving his own child another squeeze.

"I want you to go to your room. I'll be there in a minute," Richie instructed Beth. "You'll find the windows nailed shut with a security alarm I installed myself."

Genuinely surprised by this, Beth only let it show for a second before she stood and headed up.

"Jeannie?" Virgil said. "Go to Beth's room."

Following suit, Jeannie jogged over to catch up with Beth.

"I just want to say thank you," Richie said, looking from Flash to Batman.

"Just kill the thank you's, okay?" Flash said with a smile. "We weren't too far from the area and we were glad to help."

"Wasn't overly complicated," Batman added on. "It's a typical pattern with runaways. They always get in touch with that one person they believe they can trust. Sooner or later. It was all a matter of waiting for Jeannie to receive the call." The legendary Caped Crusader narrowed his eyes as he spoke all too casually to Gear, "So I hear you're back in uniform. How long before the fear you felt at your daughter's absence over these last days fades and you return to the twisted spiral?"

Richie popped up an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"I doubt highly if Beth chose to leave the way she did because things were just too serene around here," Batman went on. "One absentee parent, one emotionally distant. I've seen it time and time again. The child ends up at a crossroads when they can't take it anymore. Unfortunately, they so rarely choose the straight and narrow. And when they walk the road most traveled, that's when they become my problem."

"Okay, Bats," Flash said, zipping over to the black adorned speaker. "You don't know the exact situation so I'm thinking you should just take it down a notch or two here."

"But he's right." Every pair of eyes in the room fell on Richie after he said that. "I mean it. You're right, Batman. Tactless as ever, but right. Things have been at their worst." He glanced at Virgil as he said, "The people in my life tried to warn me," then back to Batman, "but I didn't listen. I know I have miles to go before I can set things straight again."

"Just be sure you're willing to walk those miles," Batman told him. "Because if your daughter does become my problem, I won't approach her with a father's love. I can tell you that much."

Richie appeared firm but sure, Marissa folded her arms and gazed off thoughtfully, and Virgil stood in his own quiet contemplation. He had nothing against Batman for stating the honest truth that needed to be heard. In fact, he appreciated the older hero for it.

At the all too tense silence, Flash slapped his hands together and asked, "Okay, so who wants to check out new photos of the twins?"

Upstairs, Beth and Jeannie sat side by side on the canopy bed, going back and forth from talking about the last two days to staring at their carefully polished toes.

Beth was the next to speak when she said, "I cannot believe he tied me up like some type of criminal and forced me to come back here. Batman is so F-in' full of it, thinking he's always right with that edgy, shadow lurking thing of his."

"So?" Jeannie turned to her. "Do you still have your thing for him?"

"Always," Beth replied with an impish grin.

"Hmmm," Jeannie hummed thoughtfully.

"What?"

"Nothing. Just maybe I should take off so that Superman can come after me."

"Oh, Cutie, he'd fly across the galaxy for you," Beth said surely. "I know it."

Laughter elicited from them both at that point, which silenced as quickly as it began when the bedroom door opened.

Richie stood in the doorway and said, "Jeannie, your dad wants you downstairs."

"Okay," she responded silently. She gave one last glance to Beth before getting up and closing the door after her as she left the room.

"So is she really back?" Beth asked without looking at her father.

Richie knew she meant Marissa. "That's what she says." When Beth did not speak again, Richie continued. "But I'm not here to talk about your mother, Beth. I'm here to talk about you. Do you have any idea how worried I've been? How worried this entire family has been?"

"What family?" Beth shot back finally daring to look at him. "This is the most you've paid attention to me in months, Dad."

"And I know that was wrong, but you couldn't have thought running off like this would make things any better."

"Maybe I just wanted you to suffer a little bit for once."

"You think I haven't been suffering?" Richie retorted. "All you did by doing this was intensify it. I thought some sick piece of shit had grabbed you out there, Beth. You could've been… don't ever do this again. Do you hear me?" When she dipped her head, he demanded, "Look at me," which quickly caught her attention once more. "Do you hear me?"

"Yes," she replied softly.

Calmer now, Richie went on with, "The way things were before around here? It's over. There won't be anymore cutting school or shoplifting or staying out late. In fact, for the next three weeks all you're going to see is your school and this bedroom. What's left of it after I'm done taking out your TV, the sound system, your laptop, your netbook, and the only reason I'm allowing you to keep your cell phone is in case an emergency pops up. Also, if Sharon needs you to watch her kids at any time or if Virgil, Daisy, or Pops need you to do anything, your answer will be yes. After what you put them through, payback is due. In the morning, we'll be talking about the rest of this."

Feeling overwhelmed to the point of near stomach sickness, Beth asked incredulously, "There's more?"

"Oh yes," Richie assured her. "And I already talked to Virgil. Since you two were up so late and since I doubt if you're physically or mentally okay for school, you get it off so we can work this whole thing out. Afterwards, that's the last of the free days you will ever have. Do you understand?"

With a nod, she said, "Yeah, more and more."

Nodding himself, Richie told her, "You get to bed. I'll wake you up at nine."

"Uh huh," Beth responded vaguely, letting everything that had happened in the last hour sink in.

Richie started out but turned back briefly. "You can never do this again," he said seriously. "I honestly think I would have died if anything would've happened to you."

"I'm sorry," she apologized quietly before she even realized the words.

With that, Richie finally walked out. He heard Flash's voices as he went back downstairs and saw the talkative man sitting on the sofa holding his digital camera with Jeannie and Marissa on either side of him. A very bored Batman and amused Virgil stood in the background.

"And this is Andy getting the science fair award," Flash narrated, touring through his photos. "Oh, and here's Drew when he got his black belt in karate. He kicked all kinds of butt that day."

"They've gotten so big," Marissa commented.

"Yeah, and their birthday's coming up," Flash said sentimentally. "It's crazy. I started out with these two little spit-up machines and now I have young men on my hands."

"Where does the time go?" Marissa spoke more to herself than anyone currently present.

"Very endearing," Batman stated deprecatingly.

"Yeah," Virgil said with a playful wink. "I feel like a spit-up machine myself about now." Then he noticed the presence of his best friend. "Rich?"

"I thought you all left," said Richie.

"Flash wanted to show us a slideshow of his kids," Jeannie explained.

"As riveting as this night has been, we really should be going," said Batman.

Marissa decided to go over and hold one of the fronts door open for everyone to leave.

"I have more pics on Facebook," Flash said as he walked out. "Under my secret identity. Hit me up."

Batman offered Marissa a courtly nod as he went.

Virgil gently guided Jeannie towards the door.

"Marissa?" the young girl spoke to the woman. She gave her a hug and said, "I'm really glad you came back."

"Thank you, sweetheart," Marissa said, gladly returning the embrace.

Virgil, although still not pleased with Marissa's decisions, managed to give her a smile as he left with his daughter.

Marissa finally closed and locked the door then turned to Richie. "Is she all right?"

"She will be," he answered.

"Will we?" She approached him with a pair of imploring eyes. "Richie, where do we go from here?"

"I honestly don't have an answer for that," he told her. "But if we are really meant to go somewhere, it's like you said. This will take time." A silent moment came through them. "I will see you in the morning." He walked off towards the stairs.

Marissa could only sigh, "Okay." She hoped this counted as progress.


	5. Part 5: Repair Jobs

Self-Destruction Part 5: Repair Jobs

Despite the happenings of the night going into the early morning, Beth found herself sound asleep within minutes. After being in the motel for two nights, her canopy felt more like a castle all her own, made of the softest linens available.

At nine, Richie opened her door a crack to peek in at her. Seeing Beth still there, safe and sound, he watched her for a minute or two, before heading down the hall. He next looked into one of his many guestrooms, where Marissa had taken up residency the previous night. Having both ladies of his house home again felt odd but even Richie could not completely mask the elation it brought him.

He returned to his own room in time to pick up his vibrating cell phone. "Virgil?"

"Yeah," the caller confirmed. "Just thought I'd check in before I head down to center. Everything okay over there?"

"Calm before the next inevitable storm," Richie told him. He thought for a second. "Listen, Virgil, the way I've been lately. I just have to say I'm sorry. You were really there for me, even when I turned into someone no one recognized."

"We've been through too much, Rich," Virgil reminded him. "There's no way I could have backed down, not when you really needed somebody. Although, that kind of reminds me, what do you plan to do about Beth?"

"Oh, she is solidly grounded," Richie said surely. "She is privilege free for the next three weeks."

"Is that all?"

"What, you think I should make it a month?"

"I'm not even talking about just putting her on punishment," Virgil said. "What I think Beth really needs is a trip."

Richie sounded confused when he repeated, "A trip?"

"Yeah, right across your knee."

"I thought about that," thanks to my own father, he added to himself, "but do you really think it'll be anywhere near effective anymore? She's nearly fifteen."

"Your point?" Virgil said and Richie could practically see the Black man raise his eyebrow over the phone. "Five, ten, fifteen, it doesn't matter, Rich. And we both know you used to have zero problem disciplining that girl. You just need to return to that mindset."

Richie hummed in thought. "You know, I think you're right."

"Get ready to say that again because I have something else for you," said Virgil matter-of-factly. "I think what you and Marissa need is some counseling."

"Wait a minute," Richie halted. "I know you're not suggesting we go to some stranger and talk out our personal problems."

"Actually, no, I wasn't thinking a stranger at all. I was thinking Pops."

"Pops?" Richie echoed. "You think we should talk to Robert?"

"He's your best bet," Virgil said surely. "He's been a social worker for over thirty years, you'd be talking to someone in the family, and he knows about every aspect of your life, secret identities included. You wouldn't have anything to hide."

Richie considered it for a moment. "Good points. I'll think about it. Right now, it's about time I have an overdue conversation with my daughter."

"All the power to you on that front, man."  
The longtime friends said their goodbyes and Richie made tracks back to Beth's room. He pulled out her blue rolling desk chair and sat in it backwards. She stirred a minute or so later and opened her eyes partially.

Making out the blur before her, she acknowledged, "Dad?"

"Yeah, it's me," Richie confirmed, leaning forward slightly to gently touch her wrist. "Come on. It's time to get up."

Beth moaned as she found herself in a slightly more vertical position with her back against the headboard. She used both sets of fingers to get her insanely long hair out of her face. After a stretch and a yawn, the slender girl turned to her left slightly to get a better look at her father. It actually surprised her a bit when she saw no trace of anger on his features, unlike the last time they had been face to face, or his hand to her face, anyway.

"So I'm guessing this means I didn't swallow my entire collection of gummy worms, pass out, then dream that Batman and the Flash brought me back here?"

With an amused shake of his head, Richie answered, "'Fraid not. Here's something I want to know first and foremost, though." He got up and moved so that he was now sitting close by her on the bed. "Where were you?"

"I took the bus to the farthest motel I could find," she explained.

Richie raised an eyebrow. "And who exactly rented a motel room to my under aged daughter?"

"Um, a guy who liked the really, really big tip I gave him?"

"You bribed him." Richie rolled his eyes up towards the ceiling. "Of course. Regardless of the fact that if you'd been found there, he'd have been up to his neck in legal trouble."

Beth had never considered that. "It's not like I left the room a lot. Just to get food."

"That really doesn't matter to me, Bethany," Richie said sternly. "I've seen most of the activity that goes on at motels around this city. I've had to bust up a lot of it as Gear. You are a young girl who was on her own without anything even close to a parent clued in on your whereabouts. Someone could have easily grabbed you or-- do you even understand how foolish a move that was?"

"You hit me," she suddenly accused. "You said you would send me away. I was scared, okay?"

"Of me," it suddenly dawned on him. "You were afraid of me. Beth, what I did and what I said, it all came from anger. Anger that I had been holding in for so long that it erupted in the worst possible way. Sending you out the door was the last thing I ever wanted to do. I need you to know that."

"I'm sorry I royally messed up," she told him, staring down at her comforter. "I did so many stupid things and I don't even know why."

"I have a fair guess," Richie said. He gently took her chin and raised her head back up. "Everything you did was an attempt to get my attention. All you wanted was your father back and I was too blind to see it. That is all over with now, Doll Eyes."

Beth, feeling her voice lost for a moment, leaned forward until she rested against him. Richie immediately held her to him.

"I screwed up so bad," she whispered.

"No one in this house has been at their best," Richie relented. "But we'll find our way back."

"Does that mean you and-- you and "her", too?"

Thrown by the question for only a second, Richie said, "I can't give you a yes or no on that, Honey B. Not just yet. We're just going to have to wait and see, okay?" She nodded into his shirt. "Now," he decided to move on to the next order of business, "there's something else we need to do here."

"What?" she asked.

Her unawareness caused a bit of guilt on Richie's part, but only for a moment. "Running away the way you did was completely unacceptable, selfish, and reckless. You know better than a lot of kids out here, Beth. With the work I do, you're fully aware of what's out there. But for you to decide to forget all that and do something like this, anyway, that I just can't allow."

Before she got a chance to comment on that, Beth gasped slightly as she found herself with an all too good view of her rug from her new position over her father's lap. Countless memories invaded her mind in a single second at the multiple times she had been in the situation before. Of course, that had been a long, long time ago. Actually, it had been more like a year or so ago, but still.

"Dad, what are you doing?" the now kicking teen demanded. "I am too old for this stuff!"

"Considering the childish decision making that got into this to begin with, I sincerely doubt that," was her father's reply. "Such as skipping school," he gave her two swats, causing a mild jump on her part with each one, "shoplifting," two more swats, "and running away and putting yourself in an extremely dangerous situation." He gave her four straight with that, each producing a strong, "Ow!" from the girl.

"Dad, no, stop," she pleaded as she squirmed and continued to kick.

Giving her bare thighs a few smacks now, Richie ordered, "Stop that kicking right now, Bethany Margaret. You know better."

As if somehow put on automatic mode, Beth slowed her legs and pressed her hands down against the floor in a vain attempt to get comfortable. However, as the painful punishment continued, she quickly realized how nonsensical it was to consider anything remotely comfortable in that instance. She also decided that the slap to the face her father had given her before meant absolutely nothing. In fact, part of her would have taken another over the sting being delivered to her behind presently.

On Richie's part, the awkwardness he had been expecting proved nonexistent as he found it so natural to slip back in the stern father persona he had developed upon awareness that his baby girl would be a handful. Despite Beth's squirms, he managed to keep her in place by tightly wrapping one arm over her tiny waist and using his free hand to deliver the wallops.

"Owwww, Daddy!" the girl moaned as the unexpected, on her part, tears came. "Daddy! I'm sorry! Daddy!"

Despite it all, Richie felt a warm tug at his rebellious teen emotionally reverting back to the bouncing four-year-old he had once played Barbies with.

Before he decided to end things, Richie said, "Young lady, I swear that if you ever do anything like this, I will haul you over my knee on the spot, regardless of any and all on-lookers. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, yes, I swear!" she cried out.

Richie slowed his hand long enough to pull down her pajama bottoms, leaving her in only her green and white underwear. He raised his hand again and brought it down five times on the less protected behind. By now, Beth had gone from strong crying to intense sobs. Richie brought her shorts back up for the sake of modesty then lifted her up into his arms and cradled her.

"All right, it's all over now," he said comfortingly to the crying vessel he held. "Shhhh, it'll be all right, Doll."

Beth's tears refused to slow as she shook slightly in her father's strong arms. Cries that had been silenced for so long finally got the opportunity to awaken and took full advantage of the moment.

"Daddy," she attempted to speak after a moment, "I-- I just… I'm so sorry!"

"No," Richie said. "No more apologizing. We're moving on now, Doll. We'll be okay." He smoothed back some of her blonde locks from in front of her eyes and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I love you so much."

"I love you, too." She reached one arm out to wrap around his neck tightly.

Richie pulled the comforter around his daughter closely and continued to hold her. He finally had her back and Richie found himself not quite ready to let go of that. Now he only had to wonder if he felt the same way about a certain someone else who had made a recent return.

*******

Adam re-entered his bedroom of the hotel suite on Wednesday morning in a pair of gray joggers. He dabbed at his still wet hair with the towel he had around his neck. Taking a seat on the bed, he picked up his touch screen phone and started going through his messages. He saw several from his fellow record executives, but the one that received his attention first was an e-mail from an elementary school back in Dakota. After reading it, he pulled on a plum sweatshirt and slipped into his Nike sandals.

Techno beeping and other hyperactive sound effects greeted him as he walked back out to the living quarters. He watched his current protégé make good use of his feet as he moved back and forth on the dance game that seemed to glue him in. Adam watched for a moment, nodding with approval at Tony's extraordinary step skills. The kid was far more than vocals, that much made evident.

"I see you're good and ready to go," Adam noted to the fully clothed young boy.

"Hey, RB." Tony performed a stylish turnaround to face the man. "Yeah, last night was great. And this game is too swag." He continued moving his feet.

"Yeah," Adam agreed. "It was nice of the other label heads to send it to you." He walked in closer and took a seat on the couch. "So what's going on with school?"

Tony shrugged as he kept stepping. "Nothing."

"Then everything's okay with your homework? You've been getting it e-mailed and everything?"

"Uh huh." It did not escape Adam's attention that the boy's dance moves sped up as he spoke.

"Then why is your teacher e-mailing me, wondering if you're still alive?"

Tony stopped for a moment and started, "Uh, about that…"

"Uh…" Adam imitated. "What about that? Didn't I tell you I want you handling your school work while I'm getting you launched?"

"I remember, but I've been really busy," Tony told him dismissively. "Rehearsal and posing for photos and--"

Adam cut him off with, "I really don't want to hear that, Tony. You know I always make sure you have enough free time for yourself and more importantly for school.

"Don't worry," Tony said. "I can just get it done this weekend."

"No, in actuality you're just getting it done today," Adam informed him. "Today's rehearsals and promotions are on hold until tomorrow and I want all of your homework done and sent to your teacher by tonight."

"No rehearsal?" Tony reacted irritably. "But my concert is this Friday, RB. You said the big shots have to like me."

"And they will," Adam said. "We're just going to have to put in extra work all day tomorrow."

With wide eyes, Tony moaned, "All day?"

Adam gave him a brisk nod as he quietly went over to unplug the dance game. "I think you've had just enough play time this week." He did not miss the annoyed look Tony shot him, but instead chose to ignore it. "Now I have some calls to make. You go hit those books."

Tony sighed as he made his way to his own room. He pulled his book bag out of the closet where he had previously abandoned it upon arrival in LA and looked through it. Trying to pick whether to start math, social studies, or reading first, he made a quick choice at the sight of his Nintendo DS. He took it out and started up a round of Kingdom Hearts, which quickly absorbed any and all attentive skills he currently possessed.

*******

Robert walked out to the basketball court of the rec center and saw ten of the children having a five on five tournament. He glanced to his left and caught sight of his grandson performing one of his many uncanny stunts. Bobby currently stood on his hands by the wall with his legs bent over in a way that made them come out passed the boy's stomach. The double-jointed skill proved to be the only result of Bobby and Tristy having Rubberband Man for a father.

"Boy, do you even have bones?" Robert remarked as he walked upon the flexing young man.

"Yeah, Pops," Bobby laughed. "I was just trying to see how long I could hold it."

"You know your mother doesn't like you to do that," Robert reminded him.

Tristy bounced over to join the two of them and the conversation. "She thinks we'll break ourselves, even though Daddy can jump out of windows and stuff."

Robert gave them both a look under his glasses. "And that better not be something either of you ever try to pull off."

The brother and sister seemed to share the same thought as they began to hum innocently.

Despite himself, a smile appeared on Robert's face. He always enjoyed the company of his youngest grandchildren and would get them for the rest of the afternoon since their private school had gotten out early for a half day. Several of their classmates' parents had also sent their own children to the center until they were off work.

"I just came out to let you two know that I'm going to be in session for a while," Robert informed them. "So try to keep it down and don't knock on my office unless it's really important, all right?"

"Okay," said Bobby, going into the twelfth minute of his unusual stance.

"'Kay, Pops," Tristy said.

Nodding, Robert made the stride back to his office and closed the door once he was inside. He saw the Foley, as for now, married couple on direct opposite ends of the couch. While Richie gazed out the window with a fixed expression, Marissa looked the picture of a middle-schooler in the principal's office as she went from playing with her hands to fidgeting.

"I'm sensing quite a bit of tension here," Robert noted as he took a seat behind his large desk.

"Understatement of the year," Richie said without taking his eyes off the window.

"Well, that's why we're here," Marissa said positively.

"That's really why you're here?" Robert asked. "To ease the tension? In what way?"

Richie finally looked over at him. "What do you mean?"

"Are you trying to keep things peaceful before the divorce?" Robert darted his eyes back and forth between them. "Or do you plan on a full reconciliation because as I understand it, you're both still living in the house."

"Of course we want to reconcile," Marissa said.

Yet Richie answered, "Divorce is a strong possibility."

Marissa eyed him now. "Richie, no. We do not have to go down that road. I more than acknowledge that what I did was wrong, but to throw away fifteen years of marriage--"

Richie broke in, "An anniversary that you missed."

As if to ignore that, she continued, "--over seven months? You want to throw away everything we had because of it?"

"No," Richie said matter-of-factly. "It's because any trust we had is gone."

"You're worried I'm going to leave again?"

"Maybe not now, but right around the next time the push turns into a shove."

"Hold on there," Robert decided to interject. "I'd like to touch on that for a minute. From what you told me, Marissa originally left to go to Illinois to participate in the active Life campaign there. The biggest question I have to ask is why didn't you talk to Richie about this before you left or even call once you were gone?"

"I felt like I didn't have anything," Marissa admitted. "With Richie working late hours, we barely saw each other and Beth couldn't even stay in our house for longer than five minutes. When I knew Patrick was coming I quit my job to be a full time mom again then after… I felt trapped in that enormous house by myself. Then there were the other times when I actually thought I heard Patrick crying."

This caught Richie's attention. He looked at her as she went on.

"I thought I was losing my mind at one point and it screamed escape. I was afraid to talk to Richie. In fact, we barely talked at the time."

"That's not true," Richie objected.

"It is true," she shot back. "Richie, you acted like you didn't even want to touch me. As if I was the reason that we'd lost our son."

"Richie?" Robert directed his next question. "Let's just put everything on the table. Did you feel like Marissa was the reason you lost Patrick? Even for a minute?"

Richie glanced down as if collecting his thoughts before he spoke again. "I never blamed her and I didn't pull away because of that. I felt cursed, okay? There was a huge chunk of me afraid to actually touch her again. To risk having another baby."

"Risk?" Marissa echoed.

Robert nodded. "And you never communicated this to her. So you emotionally detached yourself instead. The same way she physically left you to become lost in her own pursuit."

"It's not the same," Richie said, shooting his head back up. "I was still here every day and she left not only me but our daughter."

"Your daughter who also ran away," Robert commented. "Right and wrong aside, every member of your household came undone at some point during this. You closed yourself off, Marissa left the situation, and Beth honestly ran. Whether on an emotional or whatever else level, you all left each other behind."

Marissa and Richie sat silently after he spoke, considering that surmise.

*******

As Beth left her eighth and final period class of the day, she barely had time to put on her messenger bag before someone popped out and grabbed hold of her left arm. She smiled at the sight of Jeannie, who seemed to be in the best of moods.

"What's with the long distance grin?" Beth asked as they headed down the hall together.

Jeannie responded, "I did mention that I'm grateful to have my psychotic best friend back in school and not on the streets with funky pedo-people?"

"I heard it once or twice today," Beth said, now in possession of her own smile. "But I have nothing against the constant reminder. Believe me, after today it's really good to hear."

"How was the first day back?"

"I have fifteen pages of homework to make up, I have to come in during my free period tomorrow to take a quiz I missed, I have a test in music coming, and I have a three page paper to write for my English class based on A Midsummer Night's Dream, which I've barely read. Oh, and did I mention that all of this happens to be due on Friday?"

Jeannie nodded then remarked, "So going to run away ever, ever again?'

Beth answered, "Only if it's to smack my head against a wall so I can go into a coma and conveniently wake up in time for graduation."

The girls turned a corner and practically ran into Raheem, who did not appear at all pleased.

"There you freaks are. Ready to go or what?" he asked in annoyance.

"I need to go to my locker," Jeannie told him.

"Well, then you need to hurry up because I have a crap load of homework to get to before patrol tonight," Raheem snapped.

Jeannie shook her head and said, "Whatever, Raheem," before going off in search of her locker.

"What's your problem, Happy?" Beth asked Raheem once they were by themselves.

"I noticed that she doesn't drag her feet when you're not around," the boy remarked.

Folding her arms and forming an angry expression, Beth said, "Look if you're pissed at me, don't take it out on Jeannie."

"Why would I be pissed at you?" Raheem asked dryly. "Just because the entire world seemed to go into some kind of Beth Foley standstill? I swear, you took the whole Bubble Blonde thing to a supreme level of dumbass."

"I guess you'd know since you lead the jerk asses and all," Beth shot back at him. "I swear you always act like you know everything when you had no clue what I was dealing with."

"I'm in this city with my dad most nights, Beth," Raheem said. "Lots of people deal with all kinds of stuff so don't try the pity card with me. And I don't care if your head was on fire because what you did was selfish and stupid and I'm not Jeannie. I'm not going to pretend things are all better now."

For lack of a better retort, Beth came back with, "Go to hell."

"Why, you want company?"

At that moment, Jeannie rejoined them. "Okay, ready," she stated.

"Took you long enough," Raheem said as he promptly turned and headed out for the parking lot.

Jeannie frowned. "Okay, what is the matter with him?"

"Oh, you didn't hear?" Beth replied. "Me."

*******

When Thursday morning arrived, Adam bounced out of bed at seven to shower and change. Once he finished, he got Tony up. After he instructed the child to get dressed, Adam went to work on preparing a quick breakfast for them both. He decided some waffles and eggs would do well since neither would take too long but would give Tony the energy he needed to get through the first part of his packed rehearsal schedule.

Before he started cooking, though, he logged onto his laptop to check on the webpage being created based on Tony. He rolled his eyes at the computer's updates and made a mental note to have Richie perform a whole new makeover to his software. He clicked the icon indicating the e-mails he had waiting on him and checked them to make sure no last minute time changes had taken place, as it would not be the first time during a hurried morning.

When he discovered another e-mail much like the one he had received the day before, he said out loud, "You've got to be kidding me. Tony!" He stood and headed into the bedroom of the one he'd beckoned.

Tony had put on a pair of navy blue joggers, a white t-shirt, and a jacket that matched the joggers. He finished tying off a du-rag that matched his shirt when Adam came in.

"What's up, RB?"

"The sky," Adam answered briskly. "Now guess what's down, your grades."

"Oh," Tony said as he went to put on his new sneakers. "This again."

"Did I or did I not tell you to have your homework e-mailed last night?"

"Well, yeah, and I did some of it, but I got busy," Tony said, never having thought his teacher would send another message so soon. Didn't she have anything better to do?

"You can't even try using that as an excuse," Adam reminded him. "I gave you the entire day to get that work done."

"What's the big deal?" Tony asked. "I'm about to blow up, anyway. Soon as I become a real rapper, I won't even need school."

Adam shot that down right away. "That's a sin and a shame if you think that for one minute. Let me make something real clear to you. This business is hard as hell. One minute you're up then you're right back down. You will always need an education and I won't let you miss out on it just because the idea of fame that hasn't even happened yet is in your head."

Tony suddenly snapped, "Stop trying to tell me what to do all the time. You're not my dad."

Adam heard the boy's tone go up higher on the last word and made note of it. "No, I'm not, but I represent you and you are my responsibility now. And as long as you are, you will follow the rules I put down."

"Shoot, fuck that," Tony muttered as he went about tying his last shoe.

With a pair of shocked eyes, Adam demanded, "What did you just say?" He received only silence from the preteen now. "That word is how little kids get their mannish selves popped out here." At the boy's scoff, Adam said, "And that's how little divas get stuff cancelled."

Tony glanced up quickly. "Come on! You're calling off my rehearsal again?"

"Try your concert," Adam informed him, producing a horrified expression from the child before him. "Since it seems you can't even get your own homework done without somebody standing over you then there's no way you're ready to break into this business yet."

"You can't do that!" Tony exclaimed, attempting to get into Adam's personal space. Considering their height difference, the closest he came was the man's waist.

"I just did it," Adam said sardonically. "Now get your books out. We're going to stay in here until you get everything done then I'll think about when you just might be ready."

Tony folded his arms challengingly over his chest. "No."

"I'm not in the mood for games, Antonio."

"So? I'm not in the mood to do my homework."

With a raised eyebrow, Adam said, "You know what?" then closed the door, hard, before turning to the short one again. "You really think I'm playing with you. Simple fact is, though, I don't play around with little kids. My own two plus my nieces and nephew can tell you that much. I think it's about time you remembered a child's place."

"I'm not a child!" Tony insisted followed by a stomp of his foot.

Dismissing that assertion quickly, Adam simply walked back over and took the eleven-year-old by the arm, pulling him towards the bed. Before Tony had time to ask what he was doing, Adam sat down complete with a lapful of wayward miniature musician.

"Get the fuck up off me!" Tony demanded.

The response he received was a sharp smack to the seat of his pants. "Let me hear that word one more time," Adam said then delivered another four swats. "One more time, Tony."

"Ow, owww!" Tony yelped. "Quit! I'm gonna tell my auntie."

Pausing for a moment, Adam removed his phone from the pocket he had stuffed it in and used his elastic arm to hold it out in front of the boy's face. The move surprised Tony almost as much as being face down right now.

"Call her," Adam encouraged. "Tell her. The minute she or your grandma ask why, tell them that, too. How much you want to bet they make you come home?" When no response came from the child, Adam knew he had gotten to him and sat the phone on the bed. "This is what happens when you act out and don't listen to adults in charge of you."

With that said, Adam went on with the spanking but not before molding his hand into the shape of a hairbrush. His hand came down with a solid whack and he thought for sure Tony would have blasted straight through the ceiling if he were not currently held down. Adam kept on, administering whack after whack. It was not long before he felt Tony shaking to the touch and the distinct sound of silent crying.

"RB, quit!" the kid now pleaded. "I'll stop, I swear! I'll do whatever you want."

"It's not about me, li'l man." Adam gave him two more whacks. "All of this is about you."

Tony cried harder as the spanking went on, but Adam knew he wasn't exactly killing him, especially since it was not happening on his bare behind. He dropped his brush shape and reverted his hand back to its natural appearance. He finished things off with four smacks all around Tony's small thighs, which made the sobbing child cry out with each.

Adam allowed him up, but instead of the angry preteen he had been expecting, Tony proved the image of a thoroughly chastised little boy who could not wipe his eyes enough.

"Don't make me do that again," Adam said as he gripped the quivering shoulders gently. "Because I won't hesitate."

"I'm sorry!" Tony moaned as more tears erupted.

Adam got off the bed and down to one knee as he pulled the saddened figure into a strong hug. He was glad when Tony did not resist but instead laid his head on Adam's shoulder.

"I'm going to go fix breakfast," Adam said after another minute. He slowly pulled back to look into the little tear streaked face. "Lay down for a little while and we can start in on your homework after we eat. Okay?"

"Okay," Tony agreed silently.

Without him having to ask, Adam helped Tony lay down on the full sized bed on his stomach. He watched as Tony buried his face into a pillow and took that as his cue to go get cooking. He took his phone back before he left. When Adam went back out to the kitchen, he started to make a quick call but decided against it and instead went in search of the waffle iron and a skillet.


	6. Part 6: Laying Out the Plans

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters found in the animated series Static Shock. They are the property of DC Comics and no infrigement is intended in the making of this fiction.

A/N: This takes place in the future after Static Shock's last season. It's set twenty years after Static but twenty years before the events of Batman Beyond.

Self-Destruction Part 6: Laying Out the Plans

As the light smoke from the fried eggs radiated towards his face, Adam's mind went to a few things. He thought about Sharon and her often criticized cooking. The hardest part about waking up on the road was not finding her asleep next to him. He also missed singing Tristy and Bobby to sleep, even though the latter switched back and forth between being too old for it.

The ponderings of his family led Adam back to thinking about Tony. He realized that he knew very little about the boy. His aunt seemed nice, but other than the rescue, he did not know much about his grandmother. Adam transferred the eggs to two plates as he considered the things Tony had actually talked about. He spoke of how much he liked Adam's music and more than anything how much he wanted his own to be launched. However, the kid hardly mentioned anything else about his life, mainly past events.

Adam turned around in time to see Tony step out of his room, rubbing at his still slightly red eyes.

"Hey," Adam greeted him warmly.

"Hi," he returned timidly. Tony glanced back and forth between his bedroom and the kitchen, as if deciding if he should turn tail and run.

"Come on. It's all right," Adam persuaded. "Don't start acting shy around me now. I can easily eat your waffles."

Tony's reaction was, "You can cook?" as he walked over to take his plate from Adam, looking all too impressed with the breakfast spread.

"I'm more than just a pretty face and sexy voice," Adam assured with a smile. "I learned to cook when I was younger than you."

"Really?" Tony sounded amazed.

The two went over to take a seat with their plates on the couch in the living area. Adam feigned obliviousness at Tony sitting very carefully on his knees with his lower end pushed up against a soft throw pillow.

Adam answered Tony's earlier question. "Of course. My mama died when I was just a little kid so I had to learn a lot of things early on just to survive. Let me tell you. Cooking was the easiest."

Tony made a slight face. "Your mama died?" Adam gave him a solemn nod. "I'm sorry, RB. What about your dad?'

"He passed on when I was right around your age," Adam explained. "Then it was just me and my older brother. Ivan was always a hard little something but after Dad, it's like all he ever cared about was taking back what he thought the world stole from us. I always had music as an outlet, but Ivan? He got into gangbanging. He stayed in and out of juvie. You heard about the Big Bang event, right? About twenty years ago?"

"Yeah, that's where you, Static, and Gear got your powers from," Tony said. "We learned about it in school and my auntie said it was mad crazy."

"You know it," Adam confirmed after he took another bite of egg. "But Ivan got powers, too. After that, everything changed between us. He became a full on, hardcore menace. I tried to get him to change his ways, but all he had was power in his eyes. He disappeared years ago and I haven't seen or heard from him since."

After he took a moment to absorb the story, Tony said hesitantly, "So, you're the only one left out of your whole family?"

"Mmhmm," Adam replied.

"That sucks, RB."

"I know, but it all worked out," Adam told him. "By deciding to tow the straight and narrow, I got more than what I wanted out of this life. My wife, my kids, my work, being a hero. It makes it all worth it."

Tony nodded at hearing that. The pair went back to their breakfast and spent several minutes chewing in comfortable silence before Tony looked up again.

"My mama died, too," he said. "In a car accident when I was six."

Adam looked at him compassionately. "Can I ask about your dad?"

"He left," Tony replied bitterly. "When I was like four."

Adam decided to ask something else he had been wondering for a while. "So, he was Mexican or…?"

"Puerto Rican," Tony corrected. "And my mama was just Black."

"Oh, okay." By the boy's full name and lightened skin tone, Adam had guessed he was mixed with something along those lines. "You about done?"

Tony answered, "Yeah," and held his plate out, allowing Adam to carry both dishes to the sink.

"You ever got a whippin before?" Adam asked. He had his back turned now, running water in the sink.

"Not since I was little," Tony admitted.

Adam assumed that meant since his mother was alive and possibly never by a male authority. "Oh, so you really were due."

"Ha ha." Although the sarcasm was evident in Tony's voice, a bit of amusement could be heard in there as well.

Twisting his head all the way around so that the front of his body stayed facing the sink but that his actual face looked at Tony, Adam said, "I wasn't kidding."

"Oh." Tony flinched slightly at Adam's currently position. "That stretching thing never hurts?"

"No more than a blink," Adam answered him, veering his head back to its normal angle. Dishes done, he turned off the water. "Good thing, too. I've been able to help a lot of people with my powers."

Tony discreetly reached back to give his behind a rub, remembering how hard Adam's hand had come down on that particular area. He wondered if that counted as "helpful" but did not speak the thought.

"I think I'll get my homework done now."

"Okay," Adam said. "I'll be in there in a minute." He gave the child a pointed look. "I want to see you on it, too."

"You will," Tony promised, definitely not ready for a repeat performance of the earlier happenings.

*******

Robert looked up from stirring powdered cream into his coffee to see Marissa walk in. As he took a sip of the hot beverage, he gestured with his free hand for her to take a seat. She placed her jacket on the coat rack then went and sat down in the middle of the couch.

"How are you doing today, Marissa?" Robert asked her as he sat behind his desk.

For lack of a better response, she said, "It can always be worse, right?"

"Very true," Robert concurred. "Now there's a reason that I decided to see you and Richie separately today. I wanted to touch down on some things we discussed yesterday and I want your individual perspectives."

"All right," she nodded.

"Now first thing," the man started, "is Illinois. Of all the places in the world, how do you think you ended up there? Why did the Life campaign call out to you?"

Marissa thought for a minute before formulating an answer and Robert could tell she had contemplated the same question to herself before. "I'd first heard about it from a friend at work. Her sister had been raped when she was very young and got pregnant as a result, but she still carried the baby and ultimately decided to keep him. He's a marine now."

"Really?" Robert sounded intrigued, as that had been the military branch he himself had once belonged to.

"Yes, and she decided against "terminating"," Marissa used air quotes as she spoke, "the pregnancy because she received sidewalk counseling from the Life members in Illinois. That story always stayed in the back of my mind and it echoed over and over after I lost Patrick. So I guess you can say that's how I ended up driving all the way to the Midwest."

Robert made sure his office door was closed before he asked his next question. "Do you think having a husband who's an honest to goodness superhero is what stirred you to do this?"

"Richie was definitely an inspiration," Marissa said. "I've always seen him as so brilliant and courageous. When I went to Illinois, I was finally able to fully realize why he decided to become Gear in the first place." She paused momentarily before continuing. "Life is something we're all only given one shot at. Fighting for it at so many costs is just unbelievably worthwhile."

"Does that mean if you had all of this to do again, you still would?"

"I would do it differently," she told him. "So differently. Because regardless of what I did while I was away, at the end of the day I know I failed my family. My daughter."

"How are things going with Beth?" Robert decided to ask.

"She makes an effort to leave for school before I even wake up and when she came home yesterday she couldn't run to her room fast enough." Marissa gave a wry smile. "It's like I came back with the plague. All I want to do is talk to her and somehow explain myself, but I can't so much as get my foot in the door."

"That's going to take time," Robert told her honestly. "A girl Beth's age looks to her mother for so much. Now she's probably questioning everything."

"So am I," Marissa stated. "I keep asking why I bother trying or why I even returned after the damage I did. But after fighting in Illinois for these past months, I suppose I came to the conclusion that as long as their's life, there's hope."

"True words," Robert agreed. "It really sounds to me like you're in it for the long haul."

Marissa sat quietly for a moment's time before gazing at the man seriously. "Robert, you've known Richie so much longer than I have. Do you think there's any chance we can work this out?"

Robert stroked his chin before he answered her. "Before you, the only thing I ever really saw Richie devoted to was computers and his inventions. When he met you, you managed to bring out a whole other side to him. If you could turn his head once, I don't doubt that you can do it again. But while you're working on it, what do you plan to do in the meanwhile?"

"Actually, I think I might have an idea for that. One I'd like your opinion on."

*******

As the eraser on the back of his pencil went to work again, Tony saw a canned Sprite come down near him on the desk.

"Thanks," he said without looking up.

"How's it coming?" Adam asked, taking a sip of the root beer he had brought in for himself.

"What's three thousand two hundred seventy nine divided by--" Tony paused long enough to blow away his eraser shavings. "Eighty one?"

Adam stretched his neck out to glance over the boy's shoulder. "Did you try multiplying?"

"This is long division," Tony reminded him.

"I know, but the thing is you can't figure out long division without a little multiplication," Adam explained. "How many times does eighty one go into this number?"

It took a couple minutes, but Tony finally came out with, "Forty times, right?"

"Yeah," Adam said. "Now take the forty and multiply it times eighty one."

Tony made quick work of figuring that out, but frowned at the answer. "That's only, "Three thousand two hundred and forty."

"Which means how much remains from the number you started off with?"

As if feeling a light bulb flashing over his head, Tony did some fast subtraction. "The remainder's thirty nine. So it's forty with remainder thirty nine."

"There you go," Adam said with a nod of approval.

"Thanks, man." Tony went to the next problem as he said, "Man, I hate math."

Lowering himself down, Adam sat next to the desk with an arm propped up on one of his knees. "Well, f you want to enter into any kind of entertainment business, you need to learn how to crunch some numbers."

The elastic man picked up the short stack of worksheets off the desk and leafed through them for error before they would be faxed over to the school. Adam had always been able to get through most math and accounting, but when it came to reading assignments, he usually had to take a step or two back.

"How long did it take you to do this?" Adam asked, indicating the papers he held.

"What, that stuff? Like a half hour," Tony answered. "That was nothing."

If you say so, Adam thought while trying to remember exactly what a compound adjective was.

The child in the room placed his pencil down for a moment then spoke carefully. "Hey, RB?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you think I could maybe still have the concert tomorrow?" Tony put forward. "I'm sorry about the way I acted and I'm not just saying that. It's just that music's really important to me."

Adam stood and walked over to stare out the window at the lights and attractions of Los Angeles. "I used to define myself by my music," he said, leaning one hand against a curtain. "Saying that's all anyone needed to know about me. Guess I was too young to realize I was made up of a lot more." Adam looked at Tony now. "I never want this industry to take control over you, Tony. I want you to take control over it. It'll be a long road, but in the end, I guarantee it's worth it."

Tony nodded then asked, "So is that a yes or a no? About the concert I mean."

"Finish the rest of those problems," Adam responded, "then we'll see."

Of course, he had not officially cancelled the concert, but the kid did not need to know that just yet.

*******

Richie swore under his breath after taking a look at his digital watch. He hurried into the community center, but halted before a pair of children dashing by could run him right over. He gave a shake of his head at the youthful vigor, something he himself had not personally experienced for quite a while now. Richie removed his gray trench as he entered Robert's office and hung the coat up as he started to explain himself.

"I'm sorry I'm late. But between an office full of people who act as if they're going to spontaneously combust on the spot and a straight half hour of traffic…"

Sensing the young adult's frustration emitting so heavily, Robert merely held up a hand and assured, "It's all right, Richie. I've had days like that, too."

"Feels like every day in a week," Richie retorted to himself before going to find a seat, unknowingly in the same spot his wife had been in only two hours before.

"Richie." Robert came over and placed a hand on one of his olive shirt adorned shoulders. "Calm. It's all right."

Letting go of a slow sigh, Richie nodded. "Yeah."

Robert stepped back. "I take it you haven't had a chance to file yet."

Shooting his head up, Richie repeated the word that stuck out. "File?"

"For the divorce," Robert explained as if it should have been obvious. "Yesterday you said it was such a strong possibility that I naturally assumed you had already looked into it."

"I… no, I haven't exactly…"

Finding his own answer in the man's jabber, Robert went on. "I know the company has had you consumed. Enough to the point of finding yourself a liquid outlet. How's sobriety treating you, by the way?"

Richie found himself feeling a bit sheepish at the question coming from the man he had respected for so long. "You've been talking to my father," he noted, part of him missing the days when Sean Foley and Robert Hawkins did not exactly see eye to eye. "Can I get in on this hotline or what?"

Robert actually chuckled at that. "Stay a parent as long as we have and you'll develop your own. Now, I don't remember you answering my question."

"Well," Richie started, "it's going all right. I got rid of the entire bar a couple days ago. Of course, that was after I royally trashed it."

"Good," Robert commented. "A crutch like alcohol can only lead down the worst possible road. I'm glad you managed to figure that out."

"It wasn't easy."

"It never is," the older man returned then grew all the more serious. "But let's be honest, Richie. What do you really want?"

"What do you mean by that?" Richie asked him.

"What do you want from your marriage?" Robert clarified. "Because if you really want to end things, you need to do it sooner whether than later. It's not fair to you or Marissa and it's certainly not fair to Beth." When Richie chose to glance downward over coming up with a reasonable response, Robert walked over and got closer upon him. "Richie, is there anything left in you that wants to save your relationship?"

A soft, "Yes," came from the lips of the sullen male as he slowly raised his eyes back up, "there is. But how can I think about going back with someone who I feel honestly betrayed me?"

Kneeling now for eye contact purposes, Robert said, "She was human. She is human. As you should know, even a hero can fall in the eyes of the people they respect."

With a shine in his eyes, Richie decided to ask, "What would you do if you were me?"

Robert stood fully again and turned back to his desk, where he picked up a wooden frame and studied it for a long moment. "Even to this day, I would take another chance with my wife if I could." He ran a hand along the outline of the departed woman's photograph. "To be able to see my Jean again…" He looked at the one currently taking up space on the couch. "Richie, you've been handed something here. For you to have that second chance, all you need is forgiveness."

Getting up, Richie walked over to a long vase Robert kept in his office and leaned over it. "What if I can't, Pops?"

"The only thing you "can't" do, Richard, is try to pull that line with me." Robert came over and pressed a tender hand against the slouched forward man's back. "I've seen you do too much that others would call impossible. Look at me." Richie slowly did so. "I think I know what you and Marissa need to do at this point."

*******

Beth decided to take a break from the mountainous load of homework set before her when the growls in her stomach overpowered the thought processes in her brain. She hopped up from her desk chair and took hold of the small storage bin she kept next to it. The inner contents disappointed her when all she saw was half a bag of sour worms and a package of Doritos. Certainly not snack enough for someone trying to decipher the words of deceased playwrights.

Knowing her grounding was still firmly in place, the young girl decided that her father would never want her to starve to death under any condition. She left her bedroom and made the tread through the hall and down the first staircase. She went straight for the giant refrigerator when she reached the kitchen and did a quick scan through it like Backpack on a command.

"Oh, hi, sweetheart." Beth froze for a moment at the voice and partially closed the refrigerator to see that Marissa had just walked in from the backyard entrance, carrying a pot filled with fresh flowers. "I've been in the garden. When did Raheem drop you off?"

"A while ago," Beth muttered, deciding on a yogurt and a banana out of the fruit bowl.

"Well, wait," Marissa called after her as Beth started out. "I just wanted to know if you had any requests for dinner tonight." She offered her daughter a small smile. "I thought the three of us could eat together."

"I'm grounded," Beth said as if it should have been the biggest "duh" on earth.

"You also have to eat," Marissa argued gently.

"You missed my F-in' eighth grade graduation," Beth unexpectedly accused. "You missed the entire summer. You missed my first day of high school, which I was completely freaked out about, by the way."

Marissa tried to jump in. "Bethie--"

"No!" Beth yelled. "You missed everything and completely forgot you even had a daughter for all these months and you all of a sudden want to crawl back here and remind me to eat? To fucking eat? To hell with that."

Despite the words being fired out, Marissa found herself grateful to hear what Beth had to say. "You're right and I was so wrong." She placed the container she held down on the table and went to stand before the fuming teenager. "I have never been so wrong in my entire life," she took the thin girl by the shoulders for a minute, "but if we can just take a minute I can explain everything to you."

"Don't touch me!" Beth yanked away and glared daggers at the maternal half of her genetics. "I don't care what happened or what you were doing. Just like you didn't give a rat's ass about me or Dad."

"No, Beth, say whatever you want, but you cannot believe that," Marissa urged. "You were my first thought every morning and my last thought every night. Thinking about you is all that kept me going. It's all that's keeping me going now that I'm back."

Bobbing her head slightly, Beth stared at her scornfully. "You want me to say whatever I want? Okay, fine. I wish you'd died instead of my brother."

"So do I," Marissa agreed in a strongly sincere tone that surprised Beth. Hitching a breath, her daughter turned away, most likely to hide any developing tears. Beth very rarely gave into crying unless truly pushed. "Sweetheart, please." Marissa placed an arm around her from behind. "I can't change time. I can't take away anything that happened this year, even though God knows I wish I could. I can just tell you that no matter what happens from here on out, I will never leave you again."

"You didn't even want me." Beth continued facing away as she spoke. "Patrick was the one you wanted. You just got stuck with me."

Unable to believe the child's words, Marissa stepped around so that she now stood in front of the girl. "I love you with everything I am and have. I see so much of your father in you, everything that's good. I wonder how you even… sometimes I really believe you're the one who got stuck with me."

At hearing that, Beth turned, eyes still glowing but more out of surprise. For the briefest moment, she forgot the events of recent months, as her mother's statement rung out. Needless to say, it had been far from expected.

"Is that why you left?" Beth wanted to know.

"No," Marissa answered her with a shake of her head.

"Then why?" Beth implored. She made her way down the first floor hall and sat on the fourth step up of the nearest staircase "How could you just leave?"

Marissa followed and sat on the third step, giving the teenager her space, before she started explaining the situation much as she had done with Richie.

"You went to Life demonstrations?" Beth sounded somewhere between disbelieved and amazed at the account. "Wasn't that crazy? What happened?"

"It could get crazy sometimes," Marissa said assuredly. "But I along with my fellow protesters managed to save at least a couple dozen infants with our sidewalk counseling."

"That's all?"

"Please don't say it like that, Beth. So much as one life saved is an immeasurable accomplishment." She paused before going on with her next though. "I've thought about organizing similar campaigns here in Dakota."

"Wow," was all Beth could say at first. "Are you serious?"

"Believe it or not, yes," Marissa confirmed. "Beth, I know all of this doesn't come close to being a justification for how silent I was during all of this, but can any part of you begin to understand?"

Taking time to think, something she had learned to do more of since she herself had been brought back home, Beth asked, "You're really back for good? You swear?"

With a raise of her right hand, Marissa said, "I swear. There's no getting rid of me, even if you might want to."

"Okay," Beth spoke plainly with a slight nod.

Marissa moved up a step so that they now sat hip to hip. "Okay," she returned.

Beth caught the unanticipated woman in a sudden hug. "I missed you so much, Mom," she whispered.

Gladly giving back the tender embrace, Marissa said, "I missed you, too, Bethie Bear. You have no idea how much."

Holding his thick silver keys tightly so as to keep them from jingling, Richie stood just outside the front way into the house. He had arrived in time to catch the conversation, something that had caught him off-guard, as Beth had made it something of a mission to avoid Marissa by any means. He also held no desire to interrupt the resolution going on between the two. Only when things quieted down did the man make his entrance.

"Well, hello," he greeted formally.

Beth stood, acknowledging him first. "Hey, Dad."

"Richie," Marissa said simply as she, too, got to her feet.

Glancing back and forth between her on edge parents, Beth said, "I'm gonna go finish my homework. Shakespeare can't figure himself out, even when he was alive." She hurried upstairs with that.

"How was work?" Marissa asked Richie, trying for a smile.

"Long," was his reply. "I just left Robert's office."

"I went in around lunch," Marissa said. "We had a really nice talk. Did you have a… nice talk?" Even as she spoke it, she knew the question sounded incredibly trite.

"More like an interesting talk." Richie started undoing his coat as he talked. "So?"

"So?" Marissa stretched expectantly.

Removing the trench from his person, Richie asked, "How do you feel about Hawaii?"

Even though the words sun, warmth, and beauty all entered her mind, Marissa decided to respond with, "What?"

"Because we're going there," Richie said wryly.

Not expecting this, Marissa smiled and stepped down and closer in front of him. "What do you mean? When?"

"Robert's been looking around and he found a couples resort in this town called Paia there. He thinks it's best we get away to work on things between ourselves. We can fly out as early as tomorrow afternoon. I'll talk to Virgil and Daisy about Beth staying with them."

Grinning now, Marissa had to work to contain the squeal she felt coming on. "Oh, Richie. This is so wonderful. We're going to have an amazing time."

He pulled back when she went to touch him, getting a pair of wounded eyes from the initially excited woman for the move. "This is not a simple vacation, Marissa," he stated firmly. "We're doing this to see if we have anything left worth saving. After we see what happens, we'll go from there."

Marissa lingered at the condescending tone, but only momentarily. "So we're just playing "wait and see"?"

"This is the best approach," Richie told her. "Either we're on a plane tomorrow or we're talking to our lawyers about divorce papers. What's it going to be, Marissa?"

Puffing out a frustrated breath, she said coolly. "All right, Richie. If this is how you see us fixing things then Hawaii here we come."

*******

Tony finished the final line of lyrics from his latest song and stopped to breath, just as Adam had taught him. He held onto the microphone tightly and stared out at the co-executives, who did not exactly jump up with the applause the young boy had been expecting. In fact, all three appeared pretty stone faced. Tony, unsure of what to do at that point, did not make a move until Adam walked out from where he had been standing in the doorway of the audition room.

"Go grab some water," Adam instructed, placing a hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'll be right there."

"Okay," Tony said softly.

As he went to do as told, he glanced back over his shoulder to see Adam conversing with the other three men. Doubt overcame him as he went into the hall and picked up a bottle of spring water out of the cooler in the hall. He opened the bottle but barely sipped at the contents as anxiety overtook him.

"Tony?" he quickly turned around to see that Adam had just walked upon him, complete with a smile on his face. "Looks like we're about to produce a single."

With wide eyes, Tony responded, "What?"

Adam's smile grew. "Welcome to TEN Records, Mr. Ramos."

"Get the f--" Tony caught his language quickly, "freak out of here! Are you serious?" Adam held his arms out, allowing the child to promptly run into them. "I don't believe it. Thanks, RB! Thank you, man."

"You did good, li'l man." Adam patted his back. "Real good." Tony pulled back, still smiling, but looking a little poignant now, too. "What's wrong?"

"It's just that we've been out here for a whole week now," Tony said. "I wish I could run and tell my grandma and my auntie about this."

Kneeling down to his level, Adam said, "What if I told you we can?"

"What do you mean?" Tony asked in confusion. "I thought we had to stay out here to produce my song or whatever."

"Actually, I planned to get your feet planted in Dakota first." Adam gave him a special look.." I know you didn't think I was going to let the west coast take credit for my little up and coming rapper."

Tony's face brightened. "You mean we can go home?"

Adam's reply was, "Tonight if you want to."

"RB, I…" Tony, after the three minute rap he had just performed, could not find words. "You're the best."

"And I want to make you the best," Adam countered. "Come on. Let's go pack up so we can head out."

After saying goodbye to the other record executives, Adam and Tony took their leave. The news of Tony's acceptance into the label had been incredible, but for the two of them, the chance to return to their mutual hometown meant so much more.


	7. Part 7: Hawaiian Holiday

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters found in the animated series Static Shock. They are the property of DC Comics and no infrigement is intended in the making of this fiction.

A/N: This takes place in the future after Static Shock's last season. It's set twenty years after Static but twenty years before the events of Batman Beyond.

Self-Destruction Part 7: Hawaiian Holiday

The upbeat mix of Maroon5 and Taylor Swift faded against the silent night air the further she made it away from the house. Her black, short-heeled ankle boots crunched against the short piles of orange, red, and yellow leaves that had been eager to fall from their individual trees the minute the weather had changed. She squeezed her way between a minivan and a two-door Coupe then jogged across the street.

11:25, she noted, after she slowed down long enough to check the time on her green RAZR. Dropping the phone back into her shoulder bag, the young woman put a greater pace in her step, already able to feel the full night's reading that laid ahead of her once she got back to campus.

After the three or so cars on the road passed by, the young woman jogged north across another lane. She walked down the familiar street, going under the grove of elm trees. Slipping into an inner debate as to study chemistry or info tech first, she did not have time to sense someone behind her until a hand extended and touched her upper arm. Spinning around, the startled girl saw a tall, uncouth man behind her.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she demanded.

He gave her a distorted grin. "Take it easy, sexy. I just want to walk with you."

"Get away from me," the female ordered.

However, he chose to try to take hold of her again, prompting her to use her heavy bag to hit him on the side of the head. The impact from the unexpected move distracted him long enough for her to deliver a swift kick to the middle of his stomach. After that, she immediately took off in a mad dash.

Glancing back, she saw that the vagrant had recovered and was in rapid pursuit of her. She gasped and ran harder, which proved difficult due to the slippery leaf piles and her now cursed choice of footwear. When he caught up and grabbed her again, she struggled wildly in his clutch. However, when her efforts to get away proved in vain, she let loose a shriek easily mistaken for a roar.

Less than a few seconds later, something hit the aggressor in the back. A steel rope popped out and wrapped around him instantaneously, forcing him to release his captive. She did not stop to question what had just happened as she started to run again, but let off another screech when she found herself slowly floating up and off the ground. Another pair of arms, much gentler yet stronger, had reached out and currently carried her over the rooftops below.

She tried to see his face through the thick visor, but futilely due to the dark cowl underneath the face plate.

"No means yes now," the green armored superhero stated with a wry smile as he rocketed on through the sky. "Go figure that one. You all right, Miss…?"

"Walsh," she supplied. "Marissa Walsh."

"Miss Walsh," he spoke the name. "Mind telling me what the deal was with Mr. Right back there?"

"He came out of nowhere," Marissa explained. "I just left my friend's house and I was heading back to my dorm when that son of a bitch grabbed me."

"A cold, dark night and the unsuspecting coed," he observed then noticed her feet. "Oh, wow, the heels. You are honestly in heels right now. What, you didn't have time to paint a big red "come and get it" sign on your back?"

She shot him a glare. "I walk this street all the time. I was at a party and-- I'm really not sure why I'm explaining myself to a Superman wannabe."

"The name is Gear," the aforementioned wannabe informed her. "But the Man o' Steel does happen to be a very good friend of mine."

"Sure," she said sarcastically then glanced down. "Look, thanks for the help I guess, but my school's right down here."

Gear made a landing in front of the dormitory. "Here you go. Safe and sound again. Don't you take any candy from strangers now."

Marissa countered crossly, "Don't forget to bite my ass now."

"Uh oh," Gear said in a sing-song tone then softened. "Listen, I'm not trying to be obnoxious here, not completely that is, but I'm vaguely sure schools like this have a little thing called campus security that would have gladly escorted you back to the premises. It's a simple thing that could have saved you this entire ordeal."

"I know, I know." Marissa let out a puff of air. "I was just tired, in a hurry to study, and, okay, once again I'm explaining myself to you."

"I have that effect on people," he said with a charming smile. "And, hey, if I come off as a total jerk, you can think of it as you being worth my personal attention."

With hands on hips, she said, "Oh? Is that right?"

"Hmm, maybe." The twinkle in his eyes shown visibly even through the visor. "But for now, I'm going to have to say--" he rocketed up, "--good night, Miss Walsh."

"She watched him blast off across the sky like a shooting star. "Gear," she breathed against the once again silent night air.

*******

After their nonstop twelve hour flight, Richie and Marissa arrived in Hawaii a little after midnight. Once they retrieved their luggage, Richie quickly hailed a taxi, wanting to make it to the hotel as soon as possible. As the cab drove along, Marissa never faced away from the window as the tropical sights of the island kept hold of her attention. A smile spread across her face ten minutes later when they pulled up in front of the Kahala Inn and Resort.

Instead of the so typical eight story hotel she had been expecting, the building resembled a medium sized condominium, surrounded by palm trees and rows of flowers. Even at that time of night, there were still several people out by the pool massive pool. Marissa gazed upward at the full moon, completely visible due to the lack of clouds. She looked to Richie to see if he shared the excitement, but all she saw under his glasses was utter exhaustion.

"Aloha," the front desk receptionist greeted them once they made it inside. "Welcome to the Kahala Inn. Name, please."

"Foley," Richie told her plainly.

She took a moment to scan through her computer before she said, "Oh, yes, Mr. and Mrs. Foley. We have you all set up for Suite 407." She reached under the desk to retrieve to door cards, which she handed over to the couple. "Just give me one moment and someone will be right here to help you with your bags."

When Richie said nothing to the enthusiastic attendant, Marissa offered her a smile and a, "Thank you."

The woman nodded and pressed a pager button on her phone. In less than a minute, a bellhop, clad in island garb, came out to collect their suitcases. The three of them took the elevator up to the second floor. The bellhop rolled the luggage cart out towards the seventh door all the way at the very end of the long hall. He unlocked the entrance for them, revealing a large room with a kitchen area, balcony, queen sized bed, and several other pieces of furniture.

"I hope everything is to your liking," he said.

"This is amazing," Marissa remarked as she went in. "Look, Richie."

"I see," he said dryly. He gave the bellhop a ten dollar bill. "Thanks."

"Thank you, sir," the man returned before he took his leave.

Richie started carrying the suitcases in while Marissa spun blissfully around the room.

"Darling, I can't believe we're really here," she marveled.

"After that never ending flight, we better be," was Richie's reply. He left the bags stacked up near the tall dresser. "I am completely worn and we still have to unpack."

"Well, maybe not right now," Marissa put forward, coming over closer to him. "We have a full day ahead to unpack." She arched her head to the right, allowing her hair to fall down to one side. "But there's plenty we can do tonight."

Richie quickly shot her down with, "I don't think so." He picked up one of his bags and carried it over to the loveseat in the room. "In fact, I think I'm fine sleeping here."

"Richie, this bed is massive," Marissa pointed out. "There's no reason we can't share it."

"I can think of a reason," he muttered as he fished around his case for sleepwear.

Marissa felt the intended sting but decided she did not want a fight. "Okay. Just… fine."

As he watched her head into the bathroom, clearly displeased, Richie found himself feeling guilty yet somehow satisfied at the same time. However, the second emotion only caused the first to intensify.

*******

Virgil released one of his token "elephant mating call" yawns as he walked down the path towards the Douglas Building. He had been tempted to prop his eyelids open with toothpicks before he left home that morning.

"Whoa," Richie commented as he caught up with him. "Did you wake up two minutes ago?"

"No," Virgil answered. "Barely twenty minutes ago. I couldn't get Raheem down until after two AM. Sorry I had to bail on patrol, man, but Daisy has a huge exam this week."

"Hey, don't even worry about it, bro," Richie said assuredly. "You're a dad now. I know how it is. Besides, your little absence scored me some one-on-one time with Marissa Walsh."

"Miss Pep Squad herself?" Virgil seemed to wake up a bit more. "How did you manage that?"

"Some guy tried to put the moves on her last night," Richie said. "It's nearly midnight and this girl's walking around alone in heels. Can you believe that?"

"Not even surprised. Seen enough of that dumb move," Virgil responded. "How'd it go?"

"I'm pretty sure she thinks I'm an obnoxious jerk."

"Huh. So you seeing her again?"

With a cross of his fingers, Richie said, "Most definitely."

*******

A blast of fresh, sweetly smelling air floated through the curtains of the window over the head of the bed. At the soothing breeze entered, Marissa's eyes opened, allowing her to breath it in. She slowly sat up and yawned lightly, followed by a small stretch. Moving her hair out of her face, she put on the thin slippers she had brought along with her then padded towards the bathroom, where she had laid out her toiletries the night before.

Once she finished brushing her teeth and washing her face, she brushed her hair until it was straight before she walked back out to the room. A slight laugh escaped her lips at the sight of Richie sleeping half-off the couch with a sheet on top of him. Marissa pulled back the drapes of the balcony and stepped out onto it. A magnificent blue sky greeted her. Another breeze came through, running like a comb through her hair. The surroundings around the hotel looked even more beautiful under the morning sun. At the full view, however, she hurried back inside and went around to the front of the loveseat.

"Richie," she urged, nudging him. "Wake up."

"Ugh," he groaned as he rolled over. "What… what time is it?"

"Forget about that," Marissa said, pulling on his arm. "You have to come see this view."

With an annoyed sigh, he got up, rubbed the remaining sleep out of his eyes, and followed her out after grabbing his glasses. They stood out together over the rim of the balcony, taking in the scene.

"This is amazing," Richie commented, his face hinting at a smile.

Marissa rested a hand on his arm and suggested, "What do you say we have breakfast right here? Then we can go for a swim or a walk on the beach."

To her happy surprise, he agreed, "Okay," then went back inside to find the room service menu.

*******

"Hello?" a voice called. "Anybody in here?"

Richie, who currently took up space under the desk of the Computer Services office, trying to fix a wiring glitch, did not respond right away. He thought he had heard the voice before but wanted to be sure.

"Okay, seriously," she said again. "I need a geek."

Popping up from his hiding place, surprising her, Richie said, "You rang, madam?"

Marissa studied him for a moment. "Okay, help me out. Where do I know you from?"

"I think we had Professor Lempskey last semester," Richie answered, securing his secret identity. "Didn't you miss CPU on the first quiz?"

With a raised eyebrow she replied, "No, it was RAM and I wasn't sure what it was officially called. I made a B+ out of the class, thank you."

Richie indicated the lime colored Dell laptop she held. "So, what's up?"

"I…" She darted her eyes sheepishly. "I can't seem to figure out why this thing crashed. I have cheerleading practice in less than an hour and a paper due tonight. I really have no time for this. Can you help me or what?"

"Let me take a look," he said, taking the portable computer from her. "Why don't you go cheer up or whatever and come back here when you're done?" When she seemed unsure, he said, "Hey, I didn't get this job based on my good looks you know. Just trust me, okay?"

"All right." She glanced at her phone's time, groaned, and left out rapidly.

"Nice seeing you, too," Richie called after her before he got down to work.

*******

After a leisurely breakfast on the balcony of their suite, Marissa and Richie dressed for the day. Richie decided on a pair of khaki's, a green polo, and a pair of brown sandals while Marissa put on an orange, spaghetti strapped sundress with a white stripe going down the front. She slipped into matching flip-flops and pulled her hair into a long ponytail.

Once they finished, they headed downstairs to the front of the inn and took the five minute stroll out to the beach in comfortable silence. Richie carried his phone with him to ensure they would not get lost on the state so foreign to them both.

Marissa was the first to notice the grass slowly turn into sand. "Richie, come on," she said excitedly, hurrying out towards the ocean.

Richie sprinted after her. "Look at that water," he said, gaping at the crystal clearness of it. "You'd never find anything like it in Lake Dakota."

"I know," Marissa agreed. She took him by the hands and led the way out to the cool water. "It's absolutely perfect."

It was Richie's turn to agree. "Tell me about it." He glanced down at their joined hands then looked back up at her in a way that appeared suspiciously fond.

*******

The moment her practice let out, Marissa found herself back in Computer Services with Richie still sitting behind the desk. For a few seconds, the two just stared, as if waiting for the other to speak.

"Well?" Marissa finally prompted. "Where's my computer?"

"Yeah," Richie said slowly. "About that. There was a serious problem with it I just couldn't fix." When her eyes proceeded to pop out, he reached underneath the desk and pulled out her laptop. "It missed you terribly."

Now looking a mix of relieved and annoyed, she went around to him. "You are not funny."

"You been talking to my friends?" he asked her with mock suspicious then placed a hand down on her laptop. "So, basically, you needed a full on virus butt kick and some major updating. I also took the liberty of upgrading your software to this century as well."

As if utterly amazed, Marissa said, "You're kidding. You actually fixed it?"

"Bettered it," Richie amended.

"Oh, wow." She cried with delight and lowered down to hug him, catching him off-guard. "Thank you so much."

"Hey, any time," Richie said, returning the hug. "Any time. But if you're looking to properly thank me then what do you say to dinner tonight?"

Marissa pulled back. "Dinner?"

"Yeah, you know. You, me, a couple of burgers, possibly a really huge order of cheese fries."

"So you're thinking gourmet I see." Marissa considered it and said, "All right. You are on. I'll meet you back here at seven, but we have to make it short."

"Sweet and to the point," Richie tacked on. "Got it." He watched her gather her computer. "See you soon, Miss Walsh."

Marissa shot her head up and could have sworn she saw a recognizable twinkle in his eyes, but quickly dismissed the notion.

*******

The beach started filling up more as the morning went on. A man and woman set up a picnic near Richie and Marissa. The man got out his gigantic camcorder while the woman played with their squirming, giggly toddler. Marissa glanced up at Richie and could tell by the look on his face that the little girl reminded them both of their own at that age.

"Do you remember when we first took Beth out to Lake Dakota?"

The corners of Richie's mouth turned up at the memory. "She rode on my shoulders in the water, practically yanked most of my hair out."

"She was out like a light by the time we got home," Marissa recalled fondly. "We must've gone back practically every day that summer."

"Yeah," Richie said. "I had water ear for a month, but it was worth it."

Marissa sighed contentedly. "I just think of Beth and how she's very much the best part of our lives. I'm really glad I decided to form that Life organization here in Dakota."

Looking down at her now, Richie queried, "What?"

"That's right," she realized. "I didn't tell you. I talked about it in my meeting with Robert. I want to start my own branch here in Dakota. We have smaller ones here already, but if I combine my efforts with the activists here we'll see some real results."

"Unbelievable." Richie shook his head with displeasure. "You're back a week and you're back on this crusading bull shit."  
Marissa gave him a razor sharp look at that. "Excuse me?"

"Can't settle down and focus on your family for five minutes without going full on Lady Godiva, can you?"

"It is not like that, Richie," Marissa said firmly with each word. "Setting things right with you and Beth was at the front of my mind, but this was something I wanted to do with the free time I'm going to have now that I'm not working. What did you think I was going to do? Stay at home and try to top your mom's apple pie recipe?"

Glowering, Richie said, "This isn't funny, Marissa."

"No, all of this hot and cold action really isn't funny," she agreed wholeheartedly. "You say we need counseling, you suggest divorce when we get there, then you spring Hawaii on me, and now you spit on something I find so important? Richie, what exactly is happening here?"

Taking time to notice the few on-lookers around them, Richie said quietly yet sharply, "This is not the place to talk about this."  
"I just don't know what you want!" she exclaimed, walking a few feet away from him. She held her arms out in dismay as the wind batted at the skirt of her dress. "But it doesn't seem to be me. And I already know that's all my fault." Marissa turned and started down the opposite direction of the beach.

Richie watched her leave and heard something in him urging him to go after her, but he silenced the voice. He looked back to the family trio in time to see the little girl tumble over to her behind, causing her parents to erupt with laughter.

*******

As Daisy struggled to get a fidgety Raheem into his red and blue Dr. Seuss coverall, a knock sounded at the door.

"Come in," she said loudly, trying to work a teeny baby fist through a sleeve.

"Hey, Dais," Richie greeted her upon entry. He then grinned at the sight of the small person who shared part of his name. "And hello, Little Rich."

"Hi, Richie," Daisy said while Raheem bounced excitedly at the new face that had just walked in. "Virgil should be headed back from African Studies right now."

"Cool, cool." The blonde then absorbed the aroma in the air. "And is that mac and cheese I smell?"

"Yeah," she said. "Help yourself."

"Thanks a lot." He went over to the kitchen area they had in the small apartment, grabbed a bowl, and started loading a plate full of the cheesy noodles out of the pot that contained them. "This is the first time I've eaten all day. I missed breakfast."

Shooting him a look, Daisy commented, "You?"

"Yeah, I know right?" Richie licked a bit of cheese off his thumb as he went to sit by her on the couch with his bowl in one hand. "Marissa and I must have stayed on the phone for four hours last night. I was like ten minutes late for class this morning."

"Again?" Daisy remarked in amazement. "How long has it been now?"

"Five weeks," Richie recounted with a smile. "In fact since her folks are all the way out in Michigan I'm thinking about asking her to spend Christmas at home with me." He made a goofy face in Raheem's direction then reached out for the baby boy.

"Uh uh," Daisy said, pulling the infant back. "Eat first."

With a smirk, Richie agreed, "Yes, Mom," then went back to his macaroni.

"So it sounds like you and Marissa are getting serious."

"No jinxing," Richie said but still looked hopeful. "But so far my extensive geekoid vocabulary has yet to scare her off."

"Oh, stop it, Richie," Daisy said. "You know she's the lucky one here."

"Aww shucks, Dais," Richie responded with playful bashfulness. He placed down his now empty bowl on the coffee table and petitioned for Raheem again. "Now?"

Daisy nodded and handed her son over to her longtime friend.

Richie held the finally fully dressed baby over his head, eliciting a squeal of tremendous proportions from the tiny vessel.

Only half listening to the jazz music being performed inside the Miki Lounge, Marissa sat at the bar with both hands wrapped around her drink. She had ordered a Scorpion, but honestly held no desire for rum. The name of the drink simply described her latest interaction with a certain husband. When the band finished their third set, the lounge patrons gave off light applause.

"They're very good, are they not?'

Marissa looked to her left to see that a presumed native with long dark hair and medium brown skin had just walked over to her with a cocktail in his hand. Despite the humidity of the day, the man wore a gray suit complete with blazer and loafers.

"Yes," Marissa concurred, glancing over at the jazz performers. "They're pretty good." She turned to the bartender now and said, "You know, I'm vaguely sure I left out today without grabbing my wallet," or my sanity she added silently to herself, "Could you just charge this to my room?"

"Of course, madam," he said. "Hotel and name, please."

"Kahala Inn, Room 407, under Foley."

The gentleman who had walked over inquired, "Miss Foley, I trust."

"Mrs. Foley," she corrected immediately.

"Gorgon Naza," he introduced himself with a bow of his head. "Will your husband be joining you shortly?"

"No, he won't," Marissa answered bitterly.

"Then may I have the pleasure of your company?"

"Look, Mr.… Naza, is it? As previously stated, I am married." She held up her wedding ring for emphasis. "Meaning I'm not looking for any outside male "company" so I'd really appreciate it if you moved along."  
"I'm sorry if I have offended you, Mrs. Foley," Gorgon apologized. "But I could sense your-- temperaments-- from across the way. I only thought you would enjoy an ear to listen."

Letting off a sigh, Marissa said, "Pull up a chair if you must."

"Thank you." He took one next to her at the counter. "Now, I have to know what a dignified married woman such as yourself is doing alone in a bar. I assume you're new to Hawaii."

"And I assume you're not," she returned.

"I just returned from Honolulu on business. Paia is my birthplace."

Marissa nodded her interest. "Really? It must be nice to have grown up in a small piece of paradise."

"You can say that," he said. "From where do you hail, may I ask?"

"Detroit," she answered. "Originally. I moved out east to the Dakota suburbs to go to college."

"Oh? Where did you attend school?"

"Dakota State." She formed a small smile. "That's actually where I met my husband."

*******

Holding a shopping bag from the book store in one hand and a much needed creamy hot mocha in the other, Marissa came back into her dorm room, kicking the door closed after her. She sat down her bag and headed over to the bed with her drink. She sat it down on the night table and started to sit herself when she felt something down below come out and seize her by the ankle.

"Aah!" she shouted.

Richie's laughter sounded as he poked his head out from underneath the bed. "Good morning to ya, Riss. Hey!" He ducked back under as her foot came down, just missing him. "No, not the face!"

"You horrible little idiot!" she yelled at him as he climbed out from under on the opposite end of the bed. Marissa put a hand to her heart, feeling the intense beating from the shock he had given her.

"Aw, come on, Riss," he tried coaxing. "It was just a joke."

"The joke will be on you if you ever scare me like that again, Richard Foley," Marissa told him tightly.

"Okay, I get it." Richie held up his hands in surrender as he went around to her. "But you really shouldn't leave your door unlocked."

"I went for a coffee run and by the bookstore," she informed him. "It's not like it was for hours on end. And as much as I appreciate these helpful reminders, you're not my father."

"Ooh, someone's testy," Richie took note. "I didn't mean to make you that mad."

"It's not you, okay?" She let out a sigh. "School starts up again in a week and the stupid school store still doesn't have two of my books. Meaning I'm going to have to wait until the first day of class and get through the circus of hyperactive students."

"Or here's a revolutionary idea. Order on-line," Richie suggested.

"Order on-line," the feisty brunette mimicked him as she went over to slam her coffee cup down on the desk beside her laptop. "Thank you, Mr. Machine for Mind, but if I wanted to receive my books a month after I need them I would surely do that."

Cocking an eyebrow, Richie came up and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. "Someone's a little too testy on this wicked wintry morning."

"Get off," she said, trying halfheartedly to get out of his embrace.

Richie only held on tighter. He lifted her straight up then sat down in her armless desk chair. He settled her down on his lap with her back pushed up against his chest.

"No one as gorgeous and amazing as you is allowed to be this ticked off," Richie informed her. "Sorry to break it to you."

She leaned over so that she now rested on his shoulder. "Fine. You win this round."

"And the boyfriend trumps again." Richie looked into her eyes and held the gaze for a moment. "What is it, Riss? I know there's something else bugging you here."

Staring ahead, she tossed out her true grievance. "We're practically at New Year's and my father has yet again made it a point to ignore my existence. No phone call, no card, not even a freaking e-mail." She ran a hand through her hair in tired frustration. "I'm just so sick of it."

After listening to her talk, Richie responded with, "The guy sounds like a piece of work. My dad and I dealt with more than one issue a few years back."

Marissa thought about how she had met Sean and Margaret Foley on Christmas morning a couple days ago. Maggie has been the picture of hospitality. Sean came off as a little gruff and there was a slight hint of tension between he and Richie, but Marissa saw no real problem with the man.

"I don't think it's the same thing, Richie," she said, standing up from him. "It's hard for me to explain."

Richie got up as well. "You feel like everyone else has it better than you do. Like you guys will never work things out. That no matter what you do, you can't equal up to his expectations."

She turned around and stared at him seriously. "How did you…?"

"I've been there, Riss," he assured her. Richie pulled her to him. "It's hard and parents can be so clueless. But I'm telling you, if your dad has any kind of sense then he has to love you at least half as much as I do."

Caught off-guard, she demanded softly, "What did you just say?"

"I love you, Riss," he reiterated. "I've wanted to say it for a while now, but we've only been going out a couple months and I didn't want to creep you out or push you away."

"You mean like hiding under my bed?" she pointed out then smirked at the look of realization that appeared on his face next. "You really are an idiot sometimes, Foley." She cupped his face with her hands. "And you've managed to turn me into one because I love you, too."

Smiling, Richie asked, "So, are you still mad?"

"Yes," she replied but could not hide the glow that seemed to surround her despite the answer. "Now do something about it."

Not needing anymore of a hint, Richie dipped his head and started kissing her. It had not been the exact way he planned to tell her, but an idea had already started formulating in the mind of the genius, as he knew it would not be long before he had to reveal another well-kept secret to her.

*******

An ear to listen had quickly turned into a mouth with which to dine. Marissa and Gorgon had gotten a table in a corner of the lounge. They had ordered a plate of shrimp canton to divide between them. Gorgon's focus never left Marissa as she spoke, having done most of the talking for the past hour. He had his chin propped up on his hands, following her every word, nodding every so often.

"My parents got divorced when I was ten," she told him next. "Since I wanted to stay with my mom, my dad took it as a sign that I had taken her side. From then, he pretty much cut me out of his life. Things weren't too great with my mother and her boyfriends of the week, either. By the time my senior year rolled around, I knew I wanted to get as far away from home as possible."

"So you went to school in Dakota," Gorgon filled in the blanks. "And you say that's where you met…?"

"Richie," Marissa supplied. "Yeah, talk about your crazy occurrences. I could go on all night, but something tells me you can see my ego right about now. What about you? Visiting your family while you're here?"

"Actually, that's something I could go on all night about," he told her.

Marissa smiled mixed with a laugh. "You know, it's been great having someone to listen, but I should really head back and try to find my husband."

"Very well, but perhaps you would like to meet me here again? Say, tonight? Ten o'clock?"

She started to decline. "I really am supposed to be spending time with my husband."

"I meant strictly on a casual basis," Gorgon assured her but placed a hand down over hers. "You can invite your husband if you wish."  
Marissa pulled her appendage back but considered it. "I'll think about it. Right now, I really have to go." She stood and made steps for the exit.

"Ten o'clock, Marissa," Gorgon called to her retreating figure. "I will see you here." He picked up a piece of shrimp, dangled it in the air for a moment, before popping it into his mouth.


	8. Part 8: Hawaiian Hypnosis

Self-Destruction Part 8: Hawaiian Hypnosis

Going back and forth between rubbing her hands together and sticking them into the pockets of her long emerald tinted pea-coat, she kicked at a short pileup of snow on the stairs outside Harrison Hall, her dormitory. With the sun barely up, Marissa did not see so much as a jogger out. Five o'clock on a mid-February morning. How on earth had she been talked into waking up at an hour that existed to no normal college student? Of course, she also had to wonder if Richie Foley, or herself for all that matter, counted as normal anything.

Looking to the left then right of the path, she asked out loud, "Where are

you?"

Before she could decide if possibly waiting for Richie in the lobby, despite

him specifically asking her to be outside, would be a better plan, something

made contact with her knees and the back of her coat. Déjà vu fluttered in her

mind as she soared off in the arms of Gear.

"You again? What is your problem?" she demanded.

"Just passing by and thought I'd say hi," Gear said, facing forward. "Hi."

"I do not know what kind of sick thrill you get out of this, but I am in no

need of rescuing. Now put me down." She gave his shoulder a smack when he did

not do as requested. "I said put me down."

"Whoa, take it easy," he said. "Take out the one flying and we both go down."

Nonetheless, he did make a landing on top of Thomas Tower, the tallest building found at Dakota State University.

"What are you doing?" Marissa wanted to know once she was safely on her feet

again. "I don't have time for whatever is going on here. Take me back right now.

I need to meet my boyfriend."

"Boyfriend?" Gear echoed with interest. "Let me guess. He fell for your sunny

disposition."

"Not that it's any of your business, but we happen to be really good together."

She thought for less than a second before she amended, "No, make that really

great."

"Are you sure about that?" Gear challenged.

"Okay, so you're what, half psychotic superhero, half therapist? Of course I'm

sure about that," Marissa said absolutely. "Just because you saved me once does

not mean you get to interrogate my relationship."

"Believe me," he said. "I have every right."

Folding her arms over her chest, she asked, "And how do you figure that?"

Words no longer necessary, Gear unsnapped his helmet before pulling it off,

revealing his full face to the outright stunned young woman before him.

Her breath caught in her throat as she recognized, "Richie?"

"It's me, Riss," he said, his voice now clearly audible without the visor

screen in front of it. "I'm Gear." He slowly took steps towards her.

"Oh, my…" Overwhelmed by the news, she fell forward a bit, right against his

armored chest. "I don't believe it. All this time and… I had no idea." Their

eyes focused hard on each other, one searching for an explanation while the

other sought a reaction.

"I wanted to tell you, I did," he swore. "I just had to wait for the right

time."

"You're Gear," she said then repeated with emphasis, "You are Gear. That has to

mean- Virgil. He's Static, isn't he? He has to be. It all fits. Does Daisy

know?"

"Yes, she does," Richie answered. "And they also know about this. Riss, I have

never felt this connection with any other girl. That's why I had to tell you

before we went any further. This is me, in and out. Last secret." Marissa eyed

him closely as he spoke. "Can you accept me for who I am right in front of you?"

She responded, "You saved me. You swooped down and took me for a ride across

the sky. You've been there and understood me in ways no one else has even

tried." She touched the side of his face tenderly. "You love me. You were the

first person in years to say that to me. Do you get that? Do you really?"

With a nod, Richie said, "Yes."

"I may not have known about the high-tech rocket skates, Richie, but I knew you

were a hero before today. If this is who you truly are, I more than accept

that."

As if something else took control of him in that moment, the unmasked Gear

hoisted her up to his level and pressed his lips against hers harder than he had

before. There was nothing kept in the dark, nothing left to hide.

Blasting off the roof, Richie held on tightly to Marissa as their kiss only

intensified. He guided them back towards his building and flew right into the

window of his campus studio apartment he had intentionally left open, completely

disregarding the winter chill. Marissa pulled back from him long enough to undo

and throw off her coat but before she could do the same with her blouse, Richie

shoved her back against the unmade futon bed.

The stimulated female watched with keen interest as Richie tore off his upper

armor, in firm bare chest now. He lowered himself over the woman and started

kissing along her neck. Marissa wriggled excitedly under him as she enveloped

both arms around his neck to pull him down closer.

Somehow a thought managed to cross her mind, causing her to petition, "Richie?

Richie?"

Richie immediately pulled back, worry that he had gone too far evident on his

face. "What is it?"

"How many…?" She searched for the best way to word the question. "Did you get

tested the last time you did this?"

Appearing meek now, he admitted, "I've never done this. This is my first

relationship beyond a split second."

"Really?" She sounded surprised.

"Yeah," he said a bit bashfully. "So I guess you've--"

"No," she cut him off. "My parents pretty much scarred me off serious dating in

high school."

"So this is a first for both of us," Richie surmised. "Are you sure you want

to? I didn`t tell you the truth for this. We can stop. We can wait."

"I'm sure I want everything with you," was her reply. "This isn't how I

expected to spend our first Valentine's Day, but I'll never feel this way again.

You already revealed it all to me, Richie. Don't hold back now."

With the consent granted, Richie lowered back down and started undoing the

buttons of her shirt until he exposed her satin camisole. Marissa took off the

remainder of the shirt herself then moved to take off unfasten her belt. She

dragged it through the loops before tossing it to the side of the bed, along

with her shirt. When she moved to unbutton her jeans, Richie pushed her hand

away to do it himself. He dragged her pants down and off, leaving her completely

in her underwear at this point.

It next became Richie's turn for slack removal as Marissa fumbled with his

metallic belt. She found the latch and took off the strap for him. Richie guided

the uniform pants along with his boxers down to his ankles, where he furiously

kicked the clothes and his shoes off onto the floor.

"Come here," he whispered to Marissa, clutching her to him long enough to take

down the panties.

Marissa grabbed his face in her hands and kissed him forcefully. A chirp

reverberated from her throat as he fell out on top of her once more.

*******

When she made it back to the beach to first search for Richie, Marissa scanned

her surroundings methodically but barely saw a blonde head anywhere in the sea

of brunettes, let alone one belonging to her husband. She decided to return to

the inn to see if he had beaten her back there. After sliding the key card into

its slot over the door handle, Marissa entered her suite but found it empty.

Going over to the dresser, she picked up her phone. She found a text message

from Beth but no word from Richie. She pressed the number two on her speed dial

and waited for him to pick up. After three fast rings, Marissa received his

voicemail message and clicked her phone shut in pure frustration.

Next, she decided to change and went into the bathroom to run the water in the

shower while she slipped out of her dress. After the soothing shower, Marissa

decided to put on a yellow tank top and Capri jean shorts. She chose a pair of

short socks and running shoes to go on her feet. After her hair fully dried, she

decided to let it hang down. Once she finished dressing, Marissa got

comfortable on the bed and used the small remote to turn on the TV hanging

overhead. She clicked through the multiple satellite channels until she found an

interesting movie on Lifetime. By the time that ended, it was three o'clock and

still no Richie.

She tried calling him again and when his voicemail came on she left a message.

"Richie, it's me. I'm sorry about the beach, but we really need to talk. I'm in

our room so just head over as soon as you get this or call me back. All right,

well, bye." She closed the phone on that.

By five thirty, Marissa grew bored of TV and clicked it right off. She dropped

the remote onto the bed and got up, deciding to go out and do some shopping. She

left the room and went downstairs to hail a taxi.

Ten minutes later, the door to the suite opened again and Richie walked in. He

slapped at his phone, which had been experiencing signal disturbances for hours.

Glancing around the room, he found himself alone. He went towards the bathroom

and saw evidence that Marissa had in fact been there. Not knowing what else to

do, he spotted the remote on the bed and switched on the TV.

*******

Adam walked from the refrigerator back out to the living section of Virgil and

Daisy's apartment, bottles and wine glasses held easily in his elastic hands.

Daisy sat on the couch with Sharon, who held Raheem in her lap. Richie and

Virgil were on the floor, enjoying the Playstation2 Virgil had at long last been

able to afford.

"All right," said Adam, bringing over the refreshments. "Here's to you guys.

Almost halfway done with college."

"You score us some booze, brother-in-law?" Virgil asked without looking up from

the two-player game with Richie.

Adam scoffed and said, "This is sparkling grape juice. You bucks know you`re

underage."

This elicited a laugh from the women and a, "Boooo," from Richie and Virgil.

"Also," Adam said, "Rich, where is your lady? This concert starts in an hour."

"And we still need to drop Heem off with Daddy," Sharon tacked on, shaking her

car keys in front of her enthusiastic nephew's face, who grabbed at the dangling

objects every so often.

"She'll be here," Richie assured. "She had a headache earlier and wanted to lay

down a while."

While they waited, Adam began pouring the juice for everyone. As he passed the

glasses around, the door slowly opened and Marissa walked in, her eyes deeply

distant.

"Hi, Marissa," Sharon greeted while Daisy said, "Hey, girl."

Richie hopped right up and went to her, planting a tender peck on her lips.

"Hey, you. We were just talking about you. You ready to go?"

"In a little bit," she responded then her voice dropped softer. "Richie, I

really need to talk to you."

Chatter on the part of Raheem interrupted them as he jumped around eagerly on

Sharon's knees, holding his arms out in Marissa's direction. The woman turned to

him with a small smile on her face and headed over to the happy boy.

"Well, hello there, handsome man," Marissa cooed then knelt down to be at eye

level with the tyke.

Raheem clapped his hands and appeared to cheer as he made gestures towards

Marissa.

"Look at him," Sharon remarked, barely able to contain the child.

` Daisy raised a confused eyebrow. "I've never seen him this excited before."

Even though Sharon held him tightly, Raheem managed to all but leap for

Marissa. His face fit the picture of curiosity and excitement. The room grew

immediately silent with everyone observing the little one, who did not settle

down until Marissa finally lifted him up to hold. He snuggled into her shoulder

right away. Marissa sighed contentedly as she rocked him a bit.

Richie laughed. "Looks like I have some competition."

Virgil said proudly, "Yeah, that's my little man right there."

Sharon, however, exchanged a look with Adam, as if the two shared the same

thought.

When Marissa took a seat on the end of the couch with Raheem, the tiny boy

ducked down a bit and placed a kiss right on her stomach.

Sharon decided to speak her theory. "He knows something."

Richie looked at Marissa who surprisingly darted her glance away from him.

"Riss?" he petitioned. "Is everything okay?"

"I went in to see the nurse today," she said before finally eying Richie again.

"She said…I took a…" She looked through the expected faces around her. "I'm

pregnant."

The minute the announcement left her lips, Richie burst out laughing again.

"Yeah, funny, Riss, but April Fool's Day was yesterday."

"I'm serious," she said strongly, clutching Raheem closer for comfort.

At that, Richie's cheerful expression reversed into full on grim.

Virgil, having been in this same position himself not very long ago,

immediately went over to keep his friend from falling on his face. Adam

stretched a hand out just in case the younger man fell forward instead. However,

Richie did not move whatsoever but remained completely still, with no sign of

mobility occurring any time soon.

Adam knew right then that the night's activities, along with a list of other

things, had been officially called off.

*******

Marissa stayed in the row of boutiques, admiring the island's unique jewelry

and clothing, until seven that evening, browsing. It was an odd occurrence for

the woman because on any normal day she would have bought out half the stores

within a half hour. However, her attention remained on Richie, wondering where

he was right now and exactly what he was doing. Although she had her phone on

maximum volume, she decided to check it again but of course saw no new messages.

Considering the entire trip had been Richie's idea, it baffled her as to how he

could behave so coldly now. No, the happenings at the beach earlier that day had

not been pleasant, but avoidance would not solve their problems.

Feeling her stomach's signal, Marissa went into a small nearby restaurant and

ordered dinner for herself. This time she had remembered her wallet.

After she ate, Marissa chose against getting another cab and just walked along

as the sun slowly set. Before long, the dark but crystal clear night sky formed.

The next time she looked at her phone she saw that it was a little after nine.

Deciding to get a taxi now, she got inside the first that pulled up and

instructed it to take her right to the Miki Lounge.

When the cab pulled up, she paid and tipped the driver, before heading inside.

She looked around for Gorgon, but did not see him, knowing she herself was

early. The lounge looked fairly different at night, mainly considering the

number of blissful couples spiritedly dancing away to the lively band. Marissa

shook her head, detesting the sight of it all. She went back outside and sucked

in a choked breath, trying to keep it all in but finding it more than a little

difficult to do so.

"Mom? Mommy?"

Marissa quickly veered around at the timid voice and standing about ten feet

away was a young boy, no older than eight.

"Mommy?" he called again.

Approaching him, Marissa had to take in another breath because even with only a

couple torches to illuminate their surroundings, she could make out the light

hair and sad brown eyes.

Speaking before she thought, Marissa uttered, "Patrick?" He abruptly dashed

away from her without a word. "No, wait!" Marissa hurried behind and followed

the hastily departing child around the side of a cliff, where she ran right

smack into a much taller individual.

"Marissa," Gorgon said in surprise.

"Gorgon," Marissa spoke breathlessly. "Did you see which way he went?"

He glanced about their surroundings. "Who?"

"A little boy," she said. "I swear for a minute I thought that he… forget it.

I'm losing my mind. That's all."

Gorgon joked, "One too many Scorpions this afternoon?" She actually managed a

laugh at that. "Now, won't you please join me at the lounge?"

Marissa nodded and the two of them started off in that direction. Unbeknownst

to either was the hidden figure surveying them just beyond the secluded rocks of

the shore.

*******

Moaning slightly, his eyelids peeled back and Richie sat up, looking around his

now dark surroundings. The only light in the room came the TV, as the sun was

long gone. Richie felt foolish at having allowed himself to doze off so easily.

He took a quick glance at his watch but had to do a double take when he fully

realized the time; a quarter to one AM.

He looked to the balcony and wondered aloud, "Where is she?"

Richie grabbed his phone and clicked on her name under his contacts. Before the

first ring ended, he heard her voicemail message. Odd, he thought. The earlier

happenings at the beach had been less than pleasant but he could not believe

Marissa would just completely blow him off. Then again, it would not be the

first time. In fact, she could be halfway back to Illinois at that very moment.

No-- he could not jump to that conclusion. Not yet.

Getting out of bed, Richie got on his hands and knees and pulled out the large

black bag he had crammed underneath it. He unzipped it and pulled out his green

helmet. Changing quickly into his outfit and skates quickly, the billionaire

transformed into Gear. Dashing out to the balcony, the hero blasted off across

the star studded sky.

*******

Stirring the sweet n' low around in her refill of iced tea, Marissa looked

across the way at Gorgon, who had ordered a Mai Tai. The two had been talking

ever since they arrived back at the Miki Lounge. Just like earlier, Marissa was

the main speaker until Gorgon surprisingly said something.

"What exactly were you doing a while ago?" he asked. "Before, when we first ran

into each other."

"I was just waiting outside," she answered.

"But you appeared to be looking for someone. You said so yourself."

Feeling bashful, Marissa said, "It sounds so ridiculous now but I saw this

little boy. For a minute, I swear he reminded me of my son."

"How on earth could you think that?" he wondered. "You said you lost him as an

infant."

"I know that, but he looked like… forget it."

"You mean the way you've been trying to? The way you "forgot" to tell your

husband about the pain you experienced prior to going into labor."

Frowning deeply, Marissa demanded, "How did you know that? No one knows about

that." Gorgon only offered her a sideways smirk as a response. Marissa felt

around her pockets. "Where's my phone? What time is it?"

"The hour does not matter," Gorgon assured her. "As the night is very young and

so are you."

Marissa stood from the table, feeling caution urge its way into her. "I need to

get back."

Gorgon got up as well and seemed to cripple her with a glance. "Return to your

husband? That's laughable. He has no further desire for you. He is disgusted by

the very sight of you."

"What?" was the only word the woman found she could utter.

"You're the reason you lost your son," Gorgon continued, casually adjusting his

cuff links. "Richie knows it. Beth knows it. And before he took in his last

breath, Patrick knew it, too."

"Stop it!" Marissa commanded. "You son of a bitch. You don't know anything

about me."

Gorgon unceremoniously took her by the arm as he countered, "But I know

everything about you, Marissa Foley, soon to be Marissa Walsh once more."

As the realization became greater, Marissa's eyes darted about at the lounge.

The bartender, the performers, the lingering dancing couples, all completely

motionless, as if frozen. The ceiling lights grew brighter and brighter until

just the quickest view of them would prove blinding. When the lights toned down

slightly, Marissa found herself with Gorgon in some sort of white world.

Her heart beating rapidly, Marissa wanted to know, "What… is… this?"

"This is where," Gorgon snatched her forward, pressing her to his chest, "you

become mine. Permanently."

*******

Gear made a landing on the now completely empty beach, right by the shore, as

thought he expected to somehow find Marissa washed up like a mermaid. He used

his visor's built in monitoring system to do a sweep of the area but when he

came up with no trace of Marissa, he decided to move on.

A voice called to him before he could blast off again. "Wait!"

Spinning around in a combat stance, Gear lost the intimidating position when he

saw the voice belonged to an elderly man. "Who are you?"

"I am Kioki Uro," the older male introduced himself with a bit of a bow.

"Okay then," Gear said, as if waiting for something more pressing. "I'm--"

"A commander of justice," Kioki interjected.

Taken aback by the unexpected title, he clarified, "Gear actually. Listen, I

appreciate the recognition but I don't have time for the fan club thing. I'm

trying to find someone."

"A woman," Kioki said. "Young, beautiful, brown hair but not a native. I heard

her name only once. I believe it began with an M. Mary or…"

"Marissa." Gripping Kioki by the shoulders, Gear asked in urgency, "My wife,

where did you see her?"

"Across the way," Kioki replied, pointing just around a cliff. "I'm afraid your

wife has fallen victim to a great evil."

"What?" Gear exclaimed. "Where is she? What are you talking about?"

"Seventy years ago right here in Paia," began Kioki, "there lived a man. A very

wicked one who openly practiced the dark arts, including conversing with demonic

entities. He made a deal with one, some believe it was the devil himself, and

became the Demogorgon Nazar. He was granted the ability to take on any form he so chooses, all in an attempt to gain the trust of crestfallen women. He lures

them in with his hypnotic aura and eventually gains access to their minds and

greatest vulnerabilities."

"What happens to them then?" Gear asked slowly.

Kioki's eyes grew dour as he said, "He mentally attacks them until they become

wrapped in a cocoon of despair and hopelessness, allowing Demogorgon to drain

their life energy into him."

"And you say he only does this with women?" Gear considered that. "Why?"

"Demogorgon desires only females. Their high emotional states provide an easy

target for him. Just before taking away their energy, he violates them."

At this, Gear's suspicious hero instincts kicked in. "How exactly do you know

all of this?"

Kioki's anger became visible. "When I was a boy, my sister was one of his first

victims. She had just lost her husband in senseless bloodshed. There was nothing

any of us could do to pull her back. She felt empty and alone. Demogorgon had no

problem taking her away from us."

"I'm sorry," Gear said softly.

"Since then, he has become nothing short of a Boogieman legend across Hawaii

but I've laid in waiting." Kioki's tone grew stronger and determined. "He's at

last returned to Paia. The problem is I'm much too old to face him in mental

combat, not after all of the life force he has absorbed over the decades." He

stared at Gear purposefully. "But you. I truly believe that you, Gear, have come

here at this time and in this place to defeat Demogorgon Nazar once and for all.

For you possess the greatest of all super powers, unsurpassed intelligence."

"Nazar's not taking my wife away," Gear said determinedly. "I don't care what

it takes. I`ll fight this fight for you with everything I have. You have my

word. Now tell me where I can find him."

"He has lured your wife into a well placed illusion on the highest cliff,"

Kioki informed him. "You must make haste. I caution you, though. You are not

dealing with a mere super-villain. Go with God."

"We're going." Gear took to the sky with that.

Endless thoughts raced through his mind as he blasted along. His senseless arguing with Marissa, his belittling, it had all sent her into Nazar's clutch. If only

he had stopped to really listen to her or even go with his first instinct when

she appeared in Beth's bedroom that night, to pull her to him and never let her

go. But no, his pride had gotten in the way. Thanks to that, his wife, the

mother of his child-- children, could be lost to him in that night. No matter

the cost, Gear knew he could not let that happen.

*******

Gorgon moved in a purposeful circle around Marissa's upright yet motionless

body as he studied her meticulously. He tried to determine a spot for

penetration but had been unsuccessful thus far. Although baiting the woman to

the highest point of the cliff had been no problem, compliments of a well-placed

mirage of the Miki Lounge, getting all the way in proved difficult. However, he

would not let it defer him, as it had not been the first time he'd happened upon

a hard prey.

"Why do you fight me, Marissa?" he asked her charismatically as his rotation

about her continued. Gorgon stopped suddenly and put both hands on either side

of her head. "Let's see what it is you're clinging to."

An assortment of images flashed throughout Gorgon's mind instantaneously. The

ones that stuck out the most included visions of Marissa at rallies, holding up

tall signs.

"Choose life," she urged.

Another of her hugging Beth. "I missed you so much, Mom."

But the one that really infuriated Gorgon was the flash of Richie rubbing her

stomach for the second time she was pregnant then kissing her.

"So," Gorgon grasped. "You still have your intense connection with that little

boy you met in college. Why hang onto it, Marissa? If he really wanted you,

you'd be in his touch right now. Besides, even if you do come to some sort of

reconciliation, things will never be the same between you. He'll always see you

the same way your own father sees you to this day. Nothing more than a

backstabbing traitorous fool. The woman who caused him to lose his second born."

Even with that, Gorgon still found himself unable to breech her.

"Just give into it, Marissa," he nudged alluringly. "Don't act as if this is

the first time this option has been at the forefront of your consciousness. Like

when you were sixteen. You must remember the pills. You were so close. No one

ever knew, though. Oh no. The popular pretty girl would never do such a thing.

That's who your husband fell in love with, isn't it? That image." Gorgon's face

turned dark and his voice harsh. "Then his baby died because of you and he

refused to place so much as a finger on you." He put one of his large hands

against her cheek and gazed down into her inert brown eyes. "Not me, Marissa. I

am still able to see how much of a absolutely luscious woman you really are. If

you'll just let me prove it…" He dipped his head and made a move for her still

lips.

Before he could make contact with her, however, Gorgon felt hard impact to his

left side and found himself on the rocky ground. At the sight of Gear in a

fighting stand, he glided back up as if by the air itself and dusted the

sleeves of his jacket off lightly.

"Keep your demonic bastard hands away from her, Nazar," Gear ordered.

"A superhero," Gorgon commented with an amused shake of his head. "So, you're

aware of my true self. Then excuse me for a moment while I change into something

a bit more comfortable."

Gorgon bent forward at the waist and Gear looked on as his clothes followed by

his own skin melted away from him. The Demogorgon grew in three sizes, his

remaining flesh turned different shades of red and brown, claws grew on his

appendages, and his face resembled that of a raged ape with the long, thin fangs

of a viper.

"Ick," Gear remarked. "That's your comfy look? Ever hear of a nice pair of

flannel PJ's?"

Only the creature's deep voice remained as he said, "You mock what you don't

understand. What you can never be. I haven't been a pathetic, fearful human in a

long time. The power and force that I am is something you can never know, Gear.

Or should I say, Richard Osgood Foley?"

With a calm nod, Gear said, "So you know. That's fine." He took the time to

remove his visor and placed the helmet on the ground. "Just remember. Only Mom

calls me Osgood."

"You expect to beat me with your assortment of gadgets I suppose."

"Don't belittle me," Gear rebuked the monster. "We both know the gizmos are

just for show. My real power can't be contained in robots or explosive devices.

I am taking you down but on a playing field we're both familiar with." He

indicated the top of his blonde head. "Up here."

"I wouldn't have it any other way." With a wave of his own head, Demogorgon

made the cliff surroundings vanish and again the area was contained as far as

the eye could see in glowing whiteness.

Gear knew that their actual environment had not changed. The only thing

different was the inner battlefield they had entered.

"Tell me this isn't your best trick."

"Oh, no," Demogorgon responded. "As they say, the best is yet to come. Now, let

us see what is at the very core of the superhero known as Gear."

When he tried to speak, Gear found himself unable to so much as part his lips.

His entire body grew limp next and he toppled over to the floor in a clean drop.

His best efforts to move his arms or legs proved useless. Gear knew that he had

only experienced such a paralyzing position once in his life, not long after he

discovered his incredible brain powers. His suspicions were confirmed when he

rolled his eyes upward and saw none other than Brainiac standing over him.

"I don't doubt you remember me, Foley," came the living virus' voice.

I penetrated you, turned you into a puppet. I used you for so much destruction

that your fellow "heroes" had to come close to annihilating you."

Close doesn't count, Gear countered with sudden telepathic ability, It's not

like I'm the first super guy to go the mind controlled route.

"But I am the only one of your enemies to taunt your very dreams," Brainiac

boasted. "You know how close you came to meeting your own end at my hands."

Gear thought, I'm not denying that much. Yeah, you almost did me in, mad props

to you. But it wasn't by your own hands. We both know you needed me, Brainy. We

both know you wanted me. Why? Because I was the one who took you down up at the

Watch Tower. You felt my power and you wanted it and revenge. Possessing me was

a win-win for you. The memories may still be in my head but you've been taken

down too many times to come close to serious anymore.

Watching first as "Brainiac" dissipated in front of him, Gear felt the power to

move return to him. He got up in one quick leap to his feet. He flexed his arms

and twisted his neck from side to side.

"I hope you got something better than a blast from the…" Gear spun around

slowly as the a familiar curb appeared under his feet, followed next by

buildings and a bright blue sky. "… past."

Out of nowhere, Static flew out over Gear's head but he immediately recognized

him not as the Static he knew now but the one he had helped to make right after

the Big Bang. Gear then noticed that he himself no longer stood in uniform but

in a pair of brown pants and a green sweater. He touched the brim of his nose

and felt the rim of his glasses. With a quick feel of his abs and biceps, or

lack thereof, Richie realized he had been returned to his very teenage body as

well.

Before he could question exactly what was happening, he heard Static yell out,

"Richie, look out!"

Static came at him quickly and Richie noticed first the old white shirt with

black "static" emblem on the front. The shirt had not been worn by the Static he

knew in a great many years but had been inherited by the hero's son Volt.

"Ugh!" Richie grunted as Static tackled him out of the way just as a supersonic

blast hit, shattering the store window Richie had been standing in front of.

"What- what--?!" Richie clutched his throat, unable to believe the high pitch

of his adolescent voice.

"Nice foot working, Static. But I have a job and I'm delivering."

Richie and Static sat up and Richie could not believe it when he saw Talon

flying over him. The once famous Bang Baby lady had not been active in a good

twenty years, give or take.

"V--" Richie caught himself. "Static, what is going on here?"

Instead of answering his friend, Static countered to Talon, "Yeah, I bet you

deliver quite a few "jobs" on a daily basis."

Next came a sick laughter Richie recognized right away. Shiv and his purple

sword like hands appeared on the scene.

"Guess he figured out you and Ebon's little secret, eh, Tal?" Shiv joked,

letting off another wicked skill.

"Shut up," the now angry Talon ordered him. "Advance Static."

"Rich, get out of here," Static instructed before going into fight the old

enemies.

"Static, wait." Richie reached an imploring hand out. "This isn't right."

"You bet it's not right." Rubberband Man, clad in his old pale purple and white

uniform, came like a half man half pogo stick on down the street. "Who said you

could start this action without me, Static?"

"Adam," Richie acknowledged. The older male did not seem to notice him and

Static did not either at this point as the two turned the mini battle into a two

on two fight. "What is going on here? I need your help!"

"As you always have, Foley." When Demogorgon reappeared in a beat, Richie found

himself in some sort of crystal clear rectangular prison. "Your best friend and

the man of rubber have been superheroes from the start. And yet there is you who

proved to be such a late bloomer. Even when you were granted power, you were

nothing short of an enthusiastic mechanic."

"You're wrong!" Richie yelled, smacking the palm of his hands against the

container he stood inside. "Those were the old days."

"Really?" Demogorgon crawled to Richie's cage, fully facing him now. "You

couldn't even climb out of a drunken stupor without the aide of Virgil Hawkins."

Richie's face lowered slightly and Demogorgon knew he had struck something.

"Admit it. He's always been the hero between the two of you. Doing the right

thing, making the hard choices, the best choices. He was born with natural

intelligence but you needed a sickly gas before you could be branded a genius.

Why fight, Foley? You'll never be more than the trusty sidekick."

"Sidekick?" Richie repeated softly. This time when he looked back up, his eyes

held a special glimmer but Demogorgon could not find the shame that had been

there previously. "You mean the same sidekick who told Virgil to become Static

in the first place? The same sidekick who produced invention after invention for

him, including that flying disc he loves so much? The same sidekick who had to

pull him back from the edge and read him the superhero handbook way more than

once? The same sidekick who had to kick him right in the ego several times?"

Demogorgon could only look on as the invisible cage he had built around Richie

slowly dissolved into the nothing from which it came. Richie grew in height and

muscle. His glasses disappeared off his face and his civilian clothing turned

back into his green uniform. He had become Gear once more.

"I'm no sidekick," he continued. "It may have taken me a while to earn my hero

wings but dammit I got `em. Then there's you." He gave Demogorgon a good once

over. "What kind of villain are you, anyway? I mean, seriously, you have all

this power and you don't even go the world domination route? No, all you're out

for are sick erotic thrills with defenseless victims."

"No!" Demogorgon exclaimed as he now found himself inside a clear prison.

Gear said with deadly seriousness, "My wife has never been a victim, only a

warrior. I won't let you or anyone else take her away from me."

"Don't do this," Demogorgon pleaded, his voice shrinking with his now

decreasing body. He shrunk down to a small, yellow haired boy with beseeching

doe eyes. "Daddy, don't."

Gear shook his head, as if the motion would erase it all. Brainiac had nothing

on the artifice in front of him now.

"Patrick," he breathed with a shake in his voice.

"Daddy, please let me out. The demon`ll get me," the child begged, banging on

the prison walls. "Please help me."

"It'll be okay." Gear took down the force field and rushed up to the boy.

Kneeling in front of him, he took Patrick in his arms and held him tightly.

"I've got you. I've finally got you."

"It's all Mom's fault," Patrick said into Gear's ear. "She knew something was

wrong. She didn't say anything. She wanted me to die."

At the last statement, Gear pulled back to stare intently into the small face.

"What?"

"She didn't want me. She wanted to hurt you, me, and Beth."

Glaring fiercely, Richie ordered, "Stop it. Your mother was devastated when we

lost you. She still is."

"She's lying to you!" Patrick insisted. "She's going to leave again. But first

she's going to take Beth away from you. She never wanted her, either."

"You're not my son," Gear said as the harsh reality set in. "You're another

trick."

"No, it's not, Daddy. I'm right here. Like you always see in your dreams. Now

we can do everything you wanted us to do. But we have to get rid of Marissa."

Gear took a few steps back. "No. You're an illusion, a lie." He gave out a

grunt as he found himself pinned by the shoulders against an unseen wall.

"I said let go of Marissa." The little boy's eyes went darker, as did his

innocent features. "Let her go and you can have me back."

"Stop it." Gear attempted to fight at the invisible restraints that held him.

"She's just a traitor, anyway."

Using a whole other tone now, Gear said plainly, "I told you to stop it,

Patrick Virgil." The boy's attention did not leave Gear's sight at that. "Now

release me."

Somehow, small toys appeared in Patrick's hands and he started flinging them in

Gear's direction. "No! You have to let. Her. Go!"

Gear used his free legs to kick away the onslaught of blocks, toy soldiers, and

stuffed animals. "Patrick," he said sternly, "if you don't stop it right this

second I'm going to spank you."

Instead of complying, the child continued to throw the random objects that

conjured in his small hands as he shouted, "No, no, no, no!"

Bowing his head, Gear concentrated for a moment before he felt the hold on his

shoulders loosen, allowing him to fully move again. He gave a quick massage to

each of his previously withheld joints but his gaze never left the small one

claiming to be his offspring. The boy had not given up his current fit of anger.

As if a decorated veteran, Gear marched over to the raging child.

Kneeling down with one leg, Gear gripped Patrick fiercely by the arms, keeping

the little body in place. "I told you to stop," he stated plainly then quickly

bent the boy over his upraised knee.

Raising a gloved hand, Gear brought it back down across the tiny behind

sharply. He only went harder with each smack that followed. The man knew it was

not his son he delivered the slaps to. No, the true Patrick had done nothing

wrong; had never been given enough time to. The only one Gear sought to punish

as of the then and now was a disgusting perverted demon.

"Stop this!" commanded the one on the spanked end. However, the six-year-old

voice had faded, returning the one belonging to Demogorgon. "You cannot-- this

isn't right!"

"You wanted to play this game, Nazar, fine. But when you decided to invade the

memory of my son, you tap-danced right across a line only a fool would dare."

"No!" Demongorgon wailed, his childish image fading and his outward demonic

appearance, although smaller in size now, coming back.

Now that he no longer wore a little boy's body, Gear threw the creature to the

ground and began to deliver a true onslaught of kicks. The decades old evil

proved utterly defenseless as Gear poured every ounce of rage and sadness that

had taken hold of his very being for so long into the attack. He next stomped

across the ruthlessly injured body.

"You were wrong in thinking my son was a weakness to use against me. He may be

gone but he and my daughter continue to serve as constant reminders of why I

fight. Why their mother is worth more than my entire fortune. Why I bother

waking up to deal with filth like you." A firm press to Demogorgon's throat

followed that. "You won't get to milk another tragedy or take the life of

another woman." Gear stepped back, looking on as the royally defeated monster

shrunk down several more sizes. "I am in control and this is all over."

In an instant, the white nothingness that had previously surrounded him faded

and the cliff, complete with the tropical sounds of Hawaii came back into full

view. Gear hurried to Marissa before she could topple over and held her as close

to him as he could without blocking the woman`s oxygen supply. When Demogorgon

fully contracted, a glowing dark energy erupted as the final residue of the

creature's essence faded. Gear saw the shriveled old man who remained but before

he could reach a hand out to him, the entire body dissolved into ash.

Gear spoke his response aloud. "The price of choosing darkness." He heard

Marissa moan in his hold before her eyes opened slightly.

"Richie," she breathed weakly.

"I'm here, Riss," he swore, smiling at her widely. He hugged her to him and she

burrowed her face into his neck. "We're here."

*******

Marissa laid across the bed in her dorm room, hair completely fallen to one

side of her face as she scrolled through a thick book of names. Hints of a smile

showed on her face every so often as she looked down the B section.

Bethany, she read to herself, a town from the New Testament of the Bible. After

Lazarus died and rose again, considered the place where misery is turned into

joy or where difficult problems find solutions.

At the knock to her door, she stuffed the book under her pillow and tried to

appear relaxed as she invited, "Come in."

The door opened and the first thing she saw was an enormous bouquet of

multicolored tulips, followed by Richie. "Hey, hey," he greeted her with a grin.

"Richie." She sat up against her headboard, giving him room to take a seat

close to her. She took the tied bouquet he handed her. "What is this?"

"I just wanted to say thank you," he said. "For just about everything." For

once, Marissa did not speak but looked on intently as Richie did. "I love you,

Marissa, and I love this baby so much because he's both of us. I know it's going

to be hard but we can get through this. I`ve already trusted you with my best

kept secret. No way am I backpedaling now."

"Richie," Marissa finally chimed up, her face aglow, "are you saying you want

us to keep him?"

"Absolutely," Richie answered undoubtedly then took her hand in his, "but

that's not all. Riss, I want us to get married. No, not just because you're

pregnant so don't think that. It's because I know there's never going to be

anyone else I want to have it all with."

Laying her flowers to the side, Marissa reached out and wrapped both arms

around his neck while he in turn hugged her closely. However, at the buildup of

wetness on his sweater, he held her tighter and rubbed her back as soothingly as

he could.

"Shhh, Riss, it's okay," he whispered. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you

cry."

"You never mean to do anything," she said accusingly as she only continued to

cry lightly. "You didn't mean to make me love you or your baby but you did that,

too. God, Richard Foley, I can't believe I'm marrying you."

Richie laughed and laid back, carefully pulling her down on top of him. "You

know something? Me, either."

*******

A fond smile from a memory not too long ago passed her lips. A moment or two

later, her eyelids parted a little then fully to take in the one light source.

The glowing white moon poured its radiant beams in through the balcony with the thin lace curtains echoing in the night breeze. When she made a move to rise up, she found herself pinned back by something strong. Marissa looked to see her husband's long arm wrapped around her. She blinked several times to confirm that she was not in the middle of a dream.

She smoothed her thumb over his forearm as she petitioned, "Richie?"

The male was next to open his eyes and also the next to smile at the sight of

her. "Hey, baby."

Surprised but delighted by the term of endearment, Marissa snuggled closer into

him. "What happened?"

Richie, holding her with both arms now, explained the story in great detail.

"You disciplined a decades old demon who tried to use your deepest thoughts and

emotions against you?" she surmised then said, "We're not destined for normalcy,

are we?"

"No," Richie answered without having to think twice about that one.

"Richie, I don't know what to say," Marissa said remorsefully. "What was I

thinking trusting a complete stranger like that?"

"You were looking for the one thing I wouldn't give you," Richie told her.

"Someone to talk to. Better yet, to actually listen to what you had to say. I

was so trapped in my own wounded pride that I almost really lost you in this."

As if needing to speak it to the air, she stated, "You fought for me."

"Finally," Richie tacked on. "You've been right in front of me all this time

but it took a demon of all things to make me grab on and never let go. I'm

telling you, Riss, for the first time in a long time I felt like a hero again."

"You are a hero," she assured with conviction.

"You are a hero," he returned, noting the stunned growth in her eyes that

followed. "You are standing up for something you believe in and fighting for it

as hard as you can against so many people who disagree with you. I had no right

to talk down to you the way I did at the beach. Riss, I am fully with you and

I'm going to do everything I can to support you."

"Do you mean that?" Marissa wanted to know. At his nod, she leaned in and gave

his neck a peck. "Oh, Richie…"

Richie moved upward a little until he laid over her, staring down at her with

great intent. "We lifted the curse tonight. Fear won`t rule me anymore." He

enveloped the side of her face with his hand. "I want you, Mrs. Foley. Right

here, right now."

"Richie?" He watched her, waiting for the response. "Don't hold back."

"I won't," he promised then kissed her intensely.

Ever since the night she had reappeared back in their home, this had been what

Richie had wanted. It had taken everything to hold back for so long but just as

he had swore to his wife, holding back was officially canceled. Neither clutched

to further resistance as they reconnected well into sunrise.

* * *

Stories that follow this one

The Retreat: It's the Justice League's Annual Father/Son Retreat. This time it's hosted at Oliver Queen's vacation home. All five of the original Founding Men are present and they're not the only ones. Male bonding and unique team-ups ensue.

Homecoming Folly: Takes place after The Retreat. John and Shayera's son Rex Stewart heads out to Dakota to meet up with his friends, mainly Richie Foley's daughter, for Homecoming and has to learn about the penalty of power misuse the hard way.


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